


The Road Not Taken | Season 1

by 2sp00ky4me



Series: The Road Not Taken [1]
Category: Original Work, The Road Not Taken - Fandom
Genre: Hunter Bars, M/M, Slow Burn, Tags will be added gradually., Vampire Hunter Secret Society, Vampire Hunters, Werewolf Hunters, gratuitous mention of Hot Topic skinny jeans, hunter guilds, obligatory drunk scene, vampire hunting vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-05 09:08:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 183,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18362921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2sp00ky4me/pseuds/2sp00ky4me
Summary: 𝘊𝘪𝘳𝘤𝘢 2019 | 𝘌𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘩 1The adventures and misadventures of a pair of hunting partners. The problem? One of them happens to be a 119-year-old vampire with a history. Never mind the fact that the human of the duo is a hot-head who is more than he appears, or realizes. Things come to a head as old enemies close in and old grudges resurface. If things weren’t difficult enough, the vampire and hunter are hopelessly head over heels in love with each other and neither of them realizes how the other feels.-DO NOT COPY TO ANOTHER SITE.Не копируйте это на другой сайт.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Important Note: This is taken from an RP between myself and someone else, hence the odd kind of back and forth. 
> 
> I do plan on going through and editing a few passages that read a bit awkwardly. I’m slowly planning on archiving the entire thing here on AO3, but it’ll take time and everything. There’s a good several chapters worth already written, I just need to do some editing and what not.

Dante Moretti felt the flimsy wooden chair creak under his weight as he stood on tiptoe, reaching as far as he could over his head to finish hammering down the last piece of wood. Thick slabs of lumber now covered what had once been a dilapidated window, the wood stacked two layers thick to anticipate any... surprises. After all, preparation was key. 

 

The abused chair groaned again as the human rocked back on his heels, a half-burnt cigarette dangling from his lips as he examined his handiwork. It wasn’t pretty, but it would hold. Hopefully. 

 

Satisfied that the window was sealed, the hunter stepped heavily off the chair, his thick-soled boots causing the ancient wooden floor to creak in protest. He dropped the hammer unceremoniously and rubbed his palms together to shake off a layer of sawdust and cobwebs. The cabin was an old wreck; 29 days out of the month not a living soul set foot in this place. 

 

That one day though... that full-moon night. That was a different story. 

 

Weeks of research and sheer dogged persistence had led him here, to a run-down shack in the deep woods of Maine. Who the place might have belonged to originally was anybody’s guess; the thick forest had long ago engulfed it, claiming it as its own. There had been no resistance as the trees loomed thick overhead and decades of creeping vines had slowly disguised the creaking walls. Humans didn’t come here, not even hunters and trappers searching for game. But wolves did. And tonight, Dante had his sights set on one in particular. 

 

Dusted off as much as he reasonably could be, the hunter gathered up the few odd tools and nails he’d packed with them and dropped them into a canvas tool bag. He wanted to minimize the traces of scent they would inevitably leave behind here in spades, but it probably didn’t matter much in the long run. After turning, werewolves really only craved one thing. 

 

That’s where the forty pound slab of meat came into play, and Dante dearly hoped he hadn’t lugged it all the way up the mountain for nothing. Hefting the butcher sack onto the old table, he grimaced at the small amount of animal blood seeping out of one corner. Day-old deer haunch was looking more and more unappealing. Before they left he planned to unwrap it, but that probably wasn’t necessary. If he could already smell it, every carnivore within a hundred miles definitely could. 

 

That takes care of that, Dante sighed heavily and flipped his shaggy hair out of his eyes. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a zippo to re-light his forgotten cigarette. His creased and stained leather jacket had seen much better days, and a whole lot of blood, but there was no point in replacing it until it hung in shreds. There wasn’t exactly a lot of money in being a Hunter and the job was hard enough on clothes and equipment. Best to use what you had until you couldn’t anymore. 

 

With thick dark hair and the light golden-brown skin of his Italian ancestors, Dante knew he probably wouldn’t cut a very impressive figure to the average werewolf. That underestimation generally worked to his advantage. His build was slender but muscular, the body of a man sharpened by relentless training and countless fights. One that had seen far more defeats than victories. Skin that was leather on top of tattoos on top of scars. Practicality over all else. 

 

The hunter’s only useless trapping came in the form of a silver crucifix that dangled from his neck on a thick leather cord, an oval inset bearing the image of St. Michael. Dante wasn’t a sentimental person... so holding onto it was motivated strictly by the possibility that it might be valuable someday, not the fact that his father had once worn it around his neck on hunts. 

 

At least, that’s what he told himself. 

 

“Hey, will you hurry it up already?” The human called out to his partner who was (supposed to be) similarly engaged in the cabin’s only other room, “it’s almost sunset.” 

 

Through the cabin door he’d left hanging open, and which would now hopefully be the wolf’s only possible entrance or escape route, Dante watched the red-orange sun blinking lazily through the pines. Once it disappeared, the clock started. By his best estimation almost 80% of werewolves began their transformation when the full moon reached it’s peak in the night sky. That other 20-odd percent however... they could start to turn the second after sunset. There wasn’t any useful information on this particular creature to determine which category he would fall into... just countless crime scene photos. Livestock first. A taste for human blood quickly followed. 

 

“Seriously Alex, what the hell is taking so long...” Dante grumbled, stomping into the back room to check on his partner. The shack wasn’t even that big, for crying out loud and they only had four windows to contend with on the whole thing.

 

~

 

Off in the back room, Alex had long since finished securing the remaining windows. Currently, he was standing in the center of the room, not exactly admiring his work, but rather pondering if even the walls in the rickety old shack would hold. In his pondering, he thought of how old the shack itself might be, specifically whether it was older than him or not, and all the people who might have come and gone since it had been built. 

 

Interrupting Alex’s melancholic thought process was the unmistakable stench of something dead and bloody. When Dante placed the bloody butcher sack on the table in the other room, Alex felt his nose twitch. A fanged grimace crossing his typically blank face as the familiar scent of worn leather and cigarette smoke he usually associated with his partner was masked by the foul odor. During the trek up here Alex had kept his distance from the other hunter, not necessarily avoiding him, but not wanting the horrible smell filling his overly sensitive nose. 

 

Thinking of the dead animal scent he was avoiding, Alex was left to contemplate the series of events that had brought Dante and himself here. The vampire personally preferred hunting his own kind, partially due to a personal vendetta and partially due to the fact that they seemed fond of hunting him. Right now, however, they were going after something that Dante had put weeks of research into tracking and Alex wasn’t about to see all of that effort go to waste. 

 

_ “Hey, will you hurry it up already?... It’s almost sunset.”  _

 

At the sound of Dante’s voice, Alex glanced over to the door leading out into the other room, the main part of the aged cabin and where the dead deer stench was strongest. Idly, Alex wondered if his human companion was aware of just how bad the smell was. Sighing a little, and knowing that with sunset approaching they might not have much time left, Alex started towards the door. 

 

_ “Seriously Alex, what the hell is taking so long…”  _

 

Hearing Dante grumble, Alex felt one corner of his mouth tug up just a little for half a second. Opening the door, and coming face to face with Dante, Alex felt himself grimace in disgust as a wave of day old deer carcass hit him. Taking a step back, as if the smell itself were a physical force repelling him, Alex reminded himself he’d smelled worse in his long lifetime. 

 

“I was lost in thought,” he said while trying to ignore the repugnant smell that filled the cabin, “the windows in here are secured.”

 

Bright red eyes settled on the crucifix dangling from Dante’s neck. Early in their partnership Alex had gotten used to it, not repelled by it, just wary that if it touched his skin it would burn him. Then again, Alex’s face and neck were the only parts of him ever exposed, so it was unlikely he’d accidentally come into contact with it. Still, the glint of silver reminded Alex of his daggers, both of which were his most prized possessions and the only thing from his human life he held onto after all these years. Despite both daggers being made of silver, Alex refused to part with them and had simply opted to always wear gloves as a work around, just in case. Considering what they were currently hunting, he was sure they’d come in handy. 

 

“So…” Alex commented, moving around Dante to walk over towards the door and fresher air, all while being careful to avoid the last rays of sunlight as the sun slowly set. “We’ve planned for at least one werewolf, but it occurred to me that there is always the off chance there might be more than one.” 

 

On a personal level, Alex doubted he would be in any serious danger in the event that two or more werewolves showed up. For one, they might not be all that interested in him, but that wasn’t what concerned the vampire right then. Glancing back over at Dante, he couldn’t help but think of all the close calls they’d had over the last four years. The thought of their luck running out, of Dante getting bitten or worse, terrified Alex. 

 

“If only we had more silver…” Alex murmured, mostly to himself but loud enough for Dante to hear. They simply didn’t have the funds available for an endless supply of silver weapons to hunt an endless supply of monsters. As it was, they barely had enough to get by most of the time.

 

As the sun finally fell below the horizon, leaving the sky a mix of oranges, pinks, blues, and purples, Alex stepped outside. The front porch of the cabin was much like the rest, deteriorated and barely holding up, the railing had even fallen over in places. Once upon a time, this place might have been charming, in a rustic, fairytale kind of way. Now it seemed time had taken its toll, leaving a husk of forgotten memories of the prior inhabitants. 

 

Leaning forward, forearms resting on what remained of the the railing, Alex looked out into the thick forest, blood colored eyes searching for the faintest signs of movement. The gesture wasn’t entirely necessary, leaning, slouching, shrugging and the like weren’t things vampires typically did, some didn’t even bother keeping up the ruse of breathing. Over the years, Alex had made an effort to blend in or at least not stand out more than he already did. Despite Dante knowing what he was, the vampire did try to seem more human, though he did from time to time forget to blink...

 

The tell tale signs of squirrels and birds in the trees were all Alex picked up on right then as he looked out into the forest. The smell of blood and meat emanating from the shack would likely draw more predatory creatures out in no time. A few minutes passed and Alex remained motionless, then he heard it, a long, drawn out howl in the distance.

 

~

 

Dante’s gray eyes softened almost imperceptibly as they lit on his vampire partner. It was an expression carefully masked by years of practice. There was no question about it. If someone like Dante, family and friend-less, a wanderer with no real home, could possibly have an Achilles heel... well, his was Alex. 

 

And if a human, a hunter no less, could find room in his cold heart for someone it probably shouldn’t have been a vampire. What’s done was done however, and by now Alex was a thorn embedded so deep in his side that only death could hope to remove it. 

 

But he’d be damned if Alex ever knew that. 

 

Dante didn’t miss the obvious distaste on his partner’s face at the smell, or the way the vampire’s eyes flickered down to Dante’s chest and the crucifix hanging there. Dante didn’t miss much, which was a good thing when your partner was a mostly-expressionless member of the undead. 

 

“I know, I know,” the human apologized without outright saying it, “smells like shit.” He tucked the silver cross into his shirt where it usually hid between layers of clothing. Alex wouldn’t ask him to put it away and Dante wouldn’t mention it, but it hung between them unspoken. “We just gotta put up with it a little longer.”

 

_ “We’ve planned for at least one werewolf, but it occurred to me that there is always the off chance there might be more than one.”  _

 

The human considered Alex’s words carefully. Years ago when they had first met, he would have taken it personally. The questions, the second-guessing and perceived implications that the human hadn’t done his homework. Dante had been green and hot-tempered back then, relying primarily on his speed and quick-thinking to survive. With the amount of experience under his belt now, all he knew for sure was that nothing was sure, and every eventuality couldn’t possibly be planned for. 

 

Without fail, shit always went sideways at some point. 

 

Four years into their partnership, the hunter nodded carefully, joining Alex on the porch where the smell of acrid meat wasn’t as overpowering. “There’s a chance,” he agreed, eyes not really seeing the thick forest around him, but instead flashing back to the mental screenshots he’d taken of his ink-filled journal. “There’s always a chance. Werewolves hunt in packs, but the tracks found at each of the crime scenes were consistent with one creature. A young one, too. The track marks indicated extremely long, sharp claws; he hasn’t hunted long enough to break them off or dull them down. No gouge marks either on the pads. He probably turned recently.” Dante thought back to the first instance he’d found, documented in the online archives of a small local paper. “Since September, maybe.”

 

Despite the mass hysteria, werewolves were a rare problem in the modern world. Massive packs tended to operate in stealth and some semblance of organization, turning their members with intention and bringing them in where they could be taught to hunt undetected. A rogue wolf running at large, terrorizing farms and now small towns... that was extremely strange. Someone had turned this one and left him unsupervised. Whoever had sired him, they had to know that was a death sentence. If hunters didn’t catch wind and come for the beast then another wolf pack would eventually. They couldn’t allow any threat of discovery to remain, and that’s exactly what a lone wolf was: a threat. 

 

_ “If only we had more silver…” _

 

“No shit. I only have the three silver bullets left,” Dante said as if thinking out loud, checking the revolver slung low on his hip. How disappointing that the three bullets hadn’t magically multiplied since he last checked it an hour ago. 

 

“It’s a shame we lost all that silver in Boston...” He thought regretfully of a cart-load of silver ingots that had almost literally slipped through his fingers, and the hundreds of bullets he would have been able to make out of them. Dante’s only other silver weapon was a thin blade as long as his forearm that had once been part of a matching pair. He’d lost the twin to it somewhere in the Texas desert and it was safe to assume he was never going to be seeing it again. Losing equipment and weaponry, and sometimes limbs, came with the territory. That didn’t make it suck any less. Needless to say Dante was keeping that blade securely strapped to his back until there was an emergency... He really couldn’t afford to lose it. 

 

“After this hunt we need to find a way to make some cash, fast.” Dante crossed his arms and puffed out the last of his cigarette into a forest slowly turning blue around them. “Maybe we can find someone to throw us a bone in New York. Gotta be some friendlies still out there from Rafter’s guild.”

 

If he was being honest they should have waited to stockpile their silver before undertaking this hunt. That would have been the smart move. But instead Dante, king of planning and research and field notes, had taken a risk here, triggered by the dramatic death toll that had risen in the surrounding towns. 

 

“If all else fails, we get em inside...” He flicked his zippo to illustrate his point with a grin. “You hold the door, I’ll get the light. Barbecue.” 

 

He was only half-joking, because if they were unlucky enough to see more than one wolf show up they really would be ill-prepared to handle them. Dante didn’t doubt for a second that in such a scenario, he and Alex would find a way to succeed. They always did. 

 

This would catch up to him someday, the hunter knew. The way he lived with a vampire standing behind him, always watching his back. He knew it was giving him a false sense of immortality, of being completely untouchable. He’d become aware of this complex not long after teaming up with Alex. The two of them combined could fight battles that would have taken a dozen well-trained hunters, and win. With the vampire Dante felt invincible in a way he had never experienced in his short human life, and that clock was ticking down. Sooner or later, the mirage would shatter and Dante would have to face reality. 

 

_ ‘Memento Mori.’ _ The phrase was tattooed on his shoulder, snaking down his bicep to his forearm in curling Latin script. It was his first tattoo and it had been placed there by his father, a harsh lesson at fourteen to remind him of his own imminent mortality. 

 

Remember that you will die. 

 

“Sun’s gone,” he remarked on the obvious through the deepening gloom. “Let’s find a spot to lay low.”

 

~

 

When Alex had first met Dante, he’d been a mix of grateful and unsure what to think. The human had been young, possibly younger than Alex had been when he’d turned, though Alex wasn’t all that great at determining age. Something about seeing ancient eyes in eternally youthful faces for decades warped his sense of how old a person might be. Either way, early into their partnership, the vampire had made a point of trying to poke holes in any and all plans Dante had. Not to be condescending or anything like that, rather it was to try to urge Dante to be ready for anything, even the most unlikely scenarios. Over the years, it had become less of a necessity and something Alex did out of habit more than anything else. 

 

_ “There’s a chance,” … “There’s always a chance. Werewolves hunt in packs, but the tracks found at each of the crime scenes were consistent with one creature. A young one, too. The track marks indicated extremely long, sharp claws; he hasn’t hunted long enough to break them off or dull them down. No gouge marks either on the pads. He probably turned recently.” … “Since September, maybe.” _

 

Listening to Dante explain the situation, and the reasoning as to why he was sure there was only one wolf, Alex though briefly again of the events leading to their partnership. Well, the earliest of events, back when Alex had been a captive of his own coven. If he hadn’t been turned at all he would have died long before Dante was even born. In his opinion, the only good thing that had arisen out of his ‘death’ was eventually meeting Dante. Granted, he didn’t want the human to know that, lest he ruin their partnership. 

 

“I wonder...do you think this one might be avoiding his pack?” Alex mused aloud, having gone to great lengths personally to avoid his own coven. That is, until Dante and himself killed most of them. “I’ve just never known packs to...allow a rogue wolf to go unchecked.” 

 

When Alex had been turned, he’d tried to run. Of course at the time he’d been young, unsure what was or wasn’t dangerous, unsure of his limits, and not strong enough to fend of the vampire who had sired him. For about a decade he’d spent every night conspiring to escape, and every night his sire had forced more of his cold, dead blood down Alex’s throat in an attempt at a forced bonding. Maybe Alex was defective, who knew, all he knew was that the attempts had only made him loathe the man who had stolen his humanity from him. The entire time, as he tried to fight back, or escape, he was regarded in a patronizing manner, like an angry child defying their family. As a human, a decade seemed so long, but to the elders in his coven, a decade of captivity was like grounding a troublesome child for a month. 

 

_ “No shit. I only have the three silver bullets left,” “It’s a shame we lost all that silver in Boston...”  _

 

“Maybe it’d be best to try to conserve those three bullets?” Alex offered, stating the obvious a bit. Ideally, he would have liked to have been better prepared for something like this, but too many people were dying. Alex didn’t think he’d be able to convince Dante to stand by and wait for them to get more silver while people died in the meanwhile. 

 

_ “After this hunt we need to find a way to make some cash, fast.” … “Maybe we can find someone to throw us a bone in New York. Gotta be some friendlies still out there from Rafter’s guild.” _

 

At the dual mention of both their need for money and the city Alex was born and raised in, he glanced over at Dante. Truth be told, the vampire had some ideas how to go about getting enough money to have them set for a while. His old contacts from his human life were long dead, though their descendants were still alive and active. Still, the thought of going back to his old ways was simply not an option. Undeath had instilled something of a moral code in Alex, because if he were going to be honest with himself, he was a monster long before becoming a vampire. Everything since then had been an attempt at atonement. Even if that wasn’t the case, he doubted Dante would want anything to do with him if he was hurting or killing people. 

 

“Rafter’s guild would be a good start,” Alex said, his tone even, agreeing with the idea, though he was willing to explore their options. 

 

Over the four years they’d been hunting together, Alex had occasionally told Dante about the wars, the number of times his coven had imprisoned him, and his stint of hunting solo during the seventies up until recently. Despite being open about his life as a vampire, Alex remained closed off about his life as a human. He had admitted facts, things like when and where he was born, things he liked and disliked as a human, but never delved into anything deeper. A part of Alex worried the truth would drive a wedge between them.

 

_ “If all else fails, we get em inside...” … “You hold the door, I’ll get the light. Barbecue.”  _

 

Mulling over Dante’s suggestion, should their plan go awry, Alex weighed the pros and cons. He knew the entire cabin was glorified kindling at this point, a mess of aged, dry wood that would have been condemned as a fire hazard if it had been located anywhere close to civilization. It wouldn’t be hard to light the place up if need be, though in that case the hard part would be containing a burning werewolf inside. Or worse, accidentally burning the forest down around them. A million different outcomes cross his mind the more he thinks about it, all the different ways Dante could get hurt mostly, as well as how easily he himself could get dusted in an out of control inferno. 

 

“If we’re lucky—-” which they rarely were “—we just need to pin it down and get some silver through its heart,” Alex said, hoping it’d be that easy. “So you might not have to waste those three bullets.” 

 

At the mention of the three bullets Dante had, Alex thought of how many close calls they’d been in and how little luck they were running on. Alex was immortal, for all intents and purposes, though that was no guarantee of eternal life. All that really meant was that the list of things that could kill him was much shorter than a list of things that could kill Dante. Knowing that, Alex did his best to make sure Dante had fewer close calls than the average hunter. Still, all it would take would be a misfired silver bullet, one too many enemies, or just the wrong circumstances at the wrong time, and no amount of preternatural strength or speed could salvage the situation. 

 

As much as it worried Alex, that Dante could get too used to having a very hard to kill apex predator on his side, he trusted the human to not make any dumb decisions. He’d never said as much to Dante, but Alex wasn’t planning on outliving his partner for long, should the worst happen. Morbid thoughts aside, Alex very much doubted a lone wolf would be too much for them to handle. If he was sure of anything, he knew they’d make it through the night just fine. 

 

_ “Sun’s gone,” … “Let’s find a spot to lay low.” _

 

With the sky now a deep, inky black dotted in an uncountable pinpoints of silver and a full moon looming overhead, Alex scanned the forest once more. He strained his ears, trying to pick out the sound of any larger predators that might be approaching. His sense of smell was a bit off from the overwhelming odor coming from the cabin, but his eyes and ears were as sharp as ever. When Dante suggested finding a spot to lay low, Alex opted for a tree near the cabin with thick branches stretching overhead. It was a decent vantage point, allowing him full range of sight around the cabin and a straight drop to the front porch, in the event that he needed to force the werewolf into the cabin to trap it. From his position, Alex took note of where Dante had gone, wanting to be sure just in case the wolf went for the human and not the putrid meat they’d brought as bait.

 

~

 

Dante had been a child when he and Alex first met, 19 years old and possessed with the absolute conviction that he could take on any beast, ghoul, or demon the bowels of hell might spit out. Honestly, it was a wonder he hadn’t been killed immediately. Armed only with his father’s silver weapons (and perhaps a few extra stolen from the armory of the church where he was raised), he hadn’t had a plan. No target or destination of any kind. Possessed by his own anger, he only wanted to kill something. Vampires were what he knew best so that was where he’d started. 

 

Meeting Alex had been the checkpoint, the hard left turn out of vengefulness and fury and into something more. Whether this was any better: trekking aimlessly across the map, following abstract leads and tips, was yet to be determined. At least now he wasn’t alone. 

 

Alex pushed him. Alex protected him. And most sacred of all, Alex trusted him. They’d made more than a few enemies along the way on both sides of the human/vampire line, but it never seemed to matter. The vampire was unlike anyone he’d ever met, human or otherwise, and so he’d never looked back. 

 

_ “I wonder...do you think this one might be avoiding his pack? I’ve just never known packs to...allow a rogue wolf to go unchecked.”  _

 

That gave Dante pause and he frowned into space, thinking hard. 

 

“But why?” He wondered out loud, “what would lead a werewolf to break off from their own pack, especially a young one? There’s safety in numbers... resources, food, protection, shelter.” 

 

If he’d learned anything over the course of the past several years it was to never discount Alex’s questions. They helped him to survive, to look at things from every angle, to consider even the most improbable possibilities. The vampire had taken him—an unseasoned, brash child—and helped shape him into a hunter. Logical, calculating. Not just a warrior, but a tactician. Using what he had at his disposal to augment what he didn’t. 

 

Dante didn’t know if Alex even realized how much he’d changed. Or that it was all thanks to him. 

 

“That’s a great question. Maybe they haven’t caught wind of him...” Dante trailed off, knowing there wasn’t much hope of that. Word traveled fast among the wolves, their network much stronger and far-reaching then Dante’s scavenged bits of internet chatter and newspaper clippings. If the hunter had managed to catch wind of him, he wasn’t the first. It was an interesting question. One he hoped they’d never need to find the answer to. 

 

_ “Maybe it’d be best to try to conserve those three bullets?”  _

 

Dante wordlessly agreed. What remained of his arsenal was badly in need of some upgrades. At the mention of New York he could feel Alex’s eyes flick towards him, even without looking at his face. A sort of sixth sense. He’d been thinking about bringing up the trip for a while now, but hadn’t been sure if Alex would agree. Unfortunately it was the closest hub to them, about a seven hour drive on a clear road. 

 

_ “Rafter’s guild would be a good start.” _

 

Guilds, as his kind tended to call them, were really just disguised bars and pubs all over the world friendly to hunters. With the right contacts you could find jobs there, anything from blessing a cursed object to assassinating rogue monsters. They often paid extravagantly, both in money and gear. Thanks to his father Dante still had a lot of contacts at Guilds across the country... but thanks to Alex, many of those would no longer do business with him. It was a sacrifice he hadn’t regretted for an instant. Really showed you who your friends were in the long run. 

 

_ “If we’re lucky we just need to pin it down and get some silver through its heart. So you might not have to waste those three bullets.”  _

 

“We’ve done a lot more with a lot less,” Dante conceded with a nod. “We still have the rope and wooden stakes. If I can immobilize him, you have the silver.” 

 

Conceding the kill had once burned at the human’s pride. Now it was a matter of practicality. They were a team. It didn’t matter who struck the final blow, just so long as they won. Alex’s daggers were their strongest asset at this point in the game, their best chance of ending the beast for good. 

 

Dante watched Alex weave into the trees, a graceful shadow fading into its surroundings. It was time for the most exciting part of the hunt... the endless hours of sitting on his ass doing absolutely nothing. 

 

Humans had a distinct smell, and even vampires could be detected by scent by the keen noses of their once-mortal enemies, the werewolves. That’s where the meat came in. The scent of flesh and blood to a hungry beast was like opium. It would lure the creature in, but it would also mask the much less enticing odors around it. Like Dante. Like Alex. 

 

Choosing his cover behind a thick pine about 100 yards east of his partner ensured they could close in on the cabin from opposing angles. Dante’s slim shoulders disappeared behind the foliage and he dropped to one knee, settling into position for what was likely to be a long wait. He took mental inventory of his equipment, an old habit designed to pass the time and double, then triple-check his plans. The sheath of his silver blade was hidden over his shirt and under his jacket, strapped tightly across his chest. It was the one weapon he couldn’t risk losing. Besides that he had his revolver, a coil of rope on his opposite hip, and a dozen sharpened wood stakes strapped to his thigh. It wasn’t much. But it would be enough. 

 

Dante’s human eyes were useless in the deep shadows, so he let them slip shut. Head bowed, he slipped into the only sense he had available and focused on the forest, humming and throbbing around them like a living thing. The chatter of rodents, the rustle of branches in the light breeze. The buzz of insects. 

 

How long he knelt there was unclear. It was the moment that the now-familiar sound of the forest shifted around him, first into a high-pitched whine, and then into something eerily close to silence, that he finally felt it. A presence that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He’d felt it before, ages ago. 

 

A low growl seemed to echo through the trees around them, reverberating just above the range of human hearing. Then the sound of a large predator, sniffing at an alluring scent. 

 

Absolutely motionless, Dante forced his eyes to remain closed. They would do him no good here, and trying to adjust them now would only dull his hearing. He waited until he could hear—and feel—the wolf’s footsteps, altogether too close for comfort. The beast did not pause again, not until it was well past him. 

 

Dante held his breath, and finally heard what he had really been waiting for. The protesting creak of an old wooden porch as it took the full weight of a werewolf. 

 

Got him.

 

~

 

Without a doubt, Alex knew that if Dante hadn’t walked into his life when he did, Alex would have been nothing but dust. He remembered that day, or rather night, vividly. Even now, he could picture the underground chamber deep beneath the grounds of an old manor somewhere in upstate New York. It was dark save for a naturally formed opening along the top where the sun would filter in during the day time. It was also chilled and the air had an unnatural humidity to it. Everything about it had filled him with dread when he’d been dragged down there to face whatever punishment his coven wanted to dish out for the crime of hunting other vampires. 

 

The room had been circular in design, at the center of it all stood a pair of massive, black, stone pillars, attached to each pillar were heavy silver chains and manacles with holy inscriptions etched into them. The far end of the chamber, opposite the huge double doors was a series of stone chairs, all of which appeared to have been carved out of the earth itself. When Alex had been brought there to be sentenced and executed, the chairs were occupied with the oldest and most powerful vampires in their coven. They were the ones who had decided they were sick of Alex acting like a defiant child and had decided his crimes outweighed any value he could bring to the coven. Sitting among them was Alex’s own sire, who only looked on, disappointed. 

 

According to his sire, the manor had once belonged to a religious sect that hunted vampires and witches in the early colonial years. The silver chains had been an addition by the sect, though Alex’s sire was certain the chamber was much older than that. The zealots mainly used the chamber for trials, the opening at the top of the chamber was at just the right angle to allow the sun to hit the pillars, they had found. It had been useful in confirming whether an accused vampire was actually a vampire, though useless for identifying witches. As soon as sunlight entered through it and hit whoever was chained between the pillars they would either start smoking, going up in flames before burning into nothing but ashes or they’d be fine if they were ordinary humans. 

 

However, sometime in the 1700s, the eldest of their coven had slaughtered the zealots and took the manor and its grounds for themselves after all the human occupants were dead. Soon after, everything was repurposed to allow the coven to have a safe place to gather and organize. The execution chamber remained, which had perplexed Alex at first. After all, when he was young he didn’t understand why a vampire coven would hang onto a structure used to kill them. Despite his hatred for the old vampire, Alex had asked questions, even engaging in minor debates with his sire from time to time. Information was valuable and when he’d been a captive he had all the time in the world to gather it. 

 

By the time Alex was a little more knowledgeable about vampire culture, he’d realized several things. For one, the laws were pretty clear-cut. Exposing themselves to humans was punishable by death, as was killing another vampire, though killing a fellow coven member was viewed as worse and killing one’s own sire was considered heinous. The problem for vampires in power, however, was carrying out punishments without being guilty of a crime as well. From what he learned from his sire, it seemed in ages past, a council of vampires would pass a sentence and one of them would take on the role of executioner, only to walk into the sunlight after carrying out their grime task. By Alex’s time, the preferred method was using the sun, as in simply retraining a guilty vampire and letting the sun do the rest. 

 

The vivid memory, of cold silver biting and burning into his wrists, looking across the room and meeting his sire’s eyes, and hearing how he was going to die filled him with more dread, and peace at the same time. By then he’d lived a long life, not a great one, but a long one and his only regret had been not killing more vampires. He’d come to terms with his death and for a moment had accepted he’d be joining the mounds of ashes he was kneeling in as he was sentenced to die. Then something unexpected happened, Dante had arrived, it had been dangerous of course and not something Alex would recommend, but the arrival of a hunter had disrupted proceedings and created a distraction. 

 

_ “But why?” ... “what would lead a werewolf to break off from their own pack, especially a young one? There’s safety in numbers... resources, food, protection, shelter.” ... “That’s a great question. Maybe they haven’t caught wind of him...” _

 

“You remember how we met?” Alex offered, a rhetorical question, as he doubted either of them could forget. “I was almost executed for doing things my coven didn’t like. For all we know this werewolf might have broken some kind of werewolf law and ran.” Pausing, Alex, considered how the situation reminded him of his own situation. “...I also had...many disagreements with my coven long before then, as I’ve mentioned before. What I mean is at one point I ran away from my coven, despite all the benefits that might have come with staying. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility this wolf might have done the same. Either way, there’s a slim chance the rest of his pack could come looking for him, or they might be in the region.” 

 

Going quiet for a moment, Alex wondered if he was just rambling at this point. He didn’t usually say much, preferring comfortable silence over the sound of his own voice. Sometimes he’d worried he’d bore Dante by droning on and on, though it did help on long car rides, or when they were stuck trying to pass the time. Regardless of how Dante might have felt about things Alex said, he’d hoped Dante gaining some knowledge from it all. 

 

Alex remained silent a moment longer, hoping, maybe even praying, that this would be a simple trap and kill hunt. The ever-present nagging feeling he got before hunts was strong right now. He’d only ever gotten the feeling this strong before hunts where something unexpected happened. Quelling the feeling, Alex thought about the suggested New York trip. New York City had been a popular hunting ground for his old coven, it had been where they’d found him in his human life and it made he wary of the city whenever they visited. 

 

“You know, we never did kill my sire,” Alex said finally, hinting at how uneasy he felt in the state of New York and in the city specifically. “We purged most of the leaders and as many of the younger members as we could, but he did slip away and disappeared.”

 

The knowledge that his sire was possibly still at large and biding his time made Alex anxious. As if he wasn’t really free of the man and the decades long nightmare he’d been plunged into because of him. Not wanting to think of the man who haunted his nightmares, Alex considered their money situation again and the difficulty of getting work given Alex’s...condition. If he regretted anything about partnering with Dante, it was the fact that it had left the young hunter estranged from hunters and other people who otherwise might have been an asset to him. 

 

_ “We’ve done a lot more with a lot less,”... “We still have the rope and wooden stakes. If I can immobilize him, you have the silver.”  _

 

At Dante’s suggestion, Alex felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips, his normally blank expression looking happy for a second. It was nice to see how much Dante had come along in the four years they’d hunted together. There had been a point in time when he knew that his questioning and being the one to strike the final blow would have rubbed Dante the wrong way. The fact that now neither of those things seemed to bother the hunter was reassurance that he had grown over the years. 

 

Up in his perch, Alex took to observing the surrounding forest, listening and watching silently. It was easy to not move, being as still as a statue was natural to a vampire. It was moving slowly, fidgeting and acting human to blend in that took effort. From his vantage point, Alex could hear the faintest sounds of Dante’s heartbeat and breathing from down below, it was calming, soothing even, a pleasant reassurance that Dante was still alive. He had lost visual with Dante, but kept his eyes peeled for any signs of movement regardless. 

 

Alex’s ears picked up the sound of foliage shifting around, followed by a whine, then a growl, followed by sniffing. He didn’t like how close the sounds were to his human partner but restrained himself from doing anything rash. Alex had always made a point of being careful and now was no exception. Soon enough, the sounds bypassed Dante and Alex was finally able to see the werewolf in full view as it stepped onto the porch down below. Unsheathing his daggers, Alex watched and waited for Dante to act. Once the wolf was restrained or pinned down, he’d drop in and go straight for the heart. If things went sideways, he’d opt for Dante’s Plan B and try to shut the wolf into the cabin, but if that went sideways, there was always Plan C-Z, which usually meant improvise.

 

~

 

_ “You remember how we met? I was almost executed for doing things my coven didn’t like.” _

 

Dante’s lip twitched into a smile. As if he could possibly forget. After all, a hunter could hardly forget tracking down what he’d believed to be a lone vampire and accidentally discovering that he’d instead stumbled upon a powerful coven. Alex wasn’t the only one who’d nearly lost his life that day. 

 

The chamber crowded with elders... the ominous stone pillars. The chains. It had been a sight unlike anything Dante had ever seen, and one he was unlikely to ever glimpse again. At the time he’d had no idea what it all meant; it was only in retrospect and after an explanation from Alex that he had come to understand the full grim significance of the chamber. 

 

Dante had hunted through the night to make the painstaking infiltration into the manor, his jacket frozen and lined with ice packs to (he thought) somewhat disguise his body heat. It was a crude method but that’s what he’d been back then. Crude, unpolished, and apparently lucky as hell. 

 

He remembered watched from the shadows of a cobwebbed gallery far above as the chamber slowly grew light with the echoes of sunrise. Only then had the terrible understanding dawned on him that he was looking down upon an execution chamber... and that the sun’s rising would bring a new kind of death to the undead figure chained below. 

 

Freeing Alex from the silver chains holding him had been a snap decision, made in a moment of blind instinct. Chaos ensued as he threw canisters of his own design towards the gathered figures, spraying them with a fine, fog-like mist. The modified gas contained water drawn from the fountain at the archbasilica of Saint John Lateran in Rome... it was the most potent and revered holy water available to the priests at Saint Andrews: the church where Dante had spent his childhood. Stealing it when he ran had been hammering the last nail in his own coffin. 

 

A part of him later thought he’d done that subconsciously, knowing that if he fully burned that bridge, he’d never be able to go back to that hated place. Another part of him recognized he had always known exactly what he was doing.

 

Using it that day against what were likely to be the most powerful vampires he would ever face had been an all-in, last-ditch grab for survival. He’d known that when he’d thrown his most valuable weapons, when he’d hacked at the hanging chains, when he’d hauled Alex up by the arm and they’d run like the devil was on their heels. How they’d made it out alive was still a mystery... his memories of that escape were fogged by adrenaline and admittedly, fear. 

 

He’d had no clue at the time, but that split-second decision quite literally changed the course of his life. 

 

At the time he told himself he wanted information. Rationalized that he wanted to know more, for research purposes. Wanted to hang the rescue above the vampire’s head and demand thorough answers about whatever he had blindly stumbled on. All that went out the window and he had no excuses left by the time they collapsed into an unlocked cellar somewhere in Albany, a safe hole to hide in for a while. The vampire had probably defended him a half dozen times during their mad dash for freedom, and the scales were pretty clearly tipped back into balance between them. Like you could ever get even with a vampire... there were no surprises left in the world apparently. 

 

They kept running, and at some point running from something had turned into running towards something. Turned into hunting and tracking.... Into long car rides while Dante scanned through the radio like a child with ADD, late-night diners and burnt coffee, Dante falling asleep with his shoulder pressed against Alex’s in dim hotel rooms. All the little things he took for granted now. 

 

Dante was jerked back to the present by the vampire’s voice. Alex always had that effect on him. The ability to capture his full attention regardless of what he was saying. Of course Dante would rather die than admit that. 

 

_ “You know, we never did kill my sire. We purged most of the leaders and as many of the younger members as we could, but he did slip away and disappeared.” _

 

Dante stared at his partner, studying the face he tried so hard to keep expressionless. It had been a while since Alex had brought this up. The human had known it wasn’t behind them—nothing ever really was in their line of work—but it had been months since they’d spoken of it. 

 

“Yeah,” Dante nodded, his voice a half-pitch lower, the smallest bit softer than usual. “I know. Let’s see how things go in New York. Depending on our welcome, maybe we can ask around, start digging.”

 

Dante tended to avoid this subject out of respect for his partner... and more importantly, because he’d done his own research on Alex’s sire not so long ago. The elder vampire, the source of so much pain and suffering, had gone to ground long ago. For all intents and purposes he was a ghost. Dante didn’t want to watch the light of obsession reignite in Alex’s eyes only to see him face disappointment... again. But maybe he was just being selfish. Alex deserved his closure. Even if it cost Dante his partner in the long run, the human owed him that much. 

 

Now, crouched behind the leaves and branches that were all that stood between himself and a deadly monster, Dante found his mind flickering unwittingly back to that conversation. Now was definitely not the time. 

 

Rising soundlessly from his position, Dante listened for the heavy, creaking footsteps as they padded into the wooden trap they’d set. 

 

He counted five, more than enough for a beast that size to reach the bait they’d laid out, and then he was moving, running towards the cabin. The sound of his movement was masked by the noise now coming from inside. The sound of a wild beast feeding. 

 

Dante knew Alex would follow his lead. The human often wondered if that was a smart idea, but it was a responsibility he didn’t take lightly. It made every step that much more important, every painstaking hour of planning and searching that much more vital. 

 

There had been a time, a long time in fact, when victory or defeat hadn’t been as important to him. If he won, he lived to fight again. And if he didn’t... well. All hunters had to die someday, didn’t they? 

 

His tune had changed these days. Now, it was important that they win. It was important that Dante didn’t break Alex’s trust by careless planning or overlooking some small detail that might endanger them both. 

 

Dante reached the sagging porch, creeping up with his back to the door jamb. He didn’t see Alex yet but knew he couldn’t be far behind. Encouraged by the sounds of feeding, the hunter dared a peek inside, a glance over his shoulder. 

 

The sight of an apex predator never failed to awe him. The beast was massive, but young—just as Dante had predicted. Thick cords of sinew and muscle rippled under an unblemished coat as he fed. The wolf had not yet been tested by any real enemies. And he’d clearly been feeding well... too well. 

 

Somewhere on a distant mountainside, a wolf howled. The sound chilled Dante’s blood. 

 

That hadn’t been an ordinary wolf’s cry. 

 

More pressingly, the sound broke the spell. In a heartbeat the werewolf’s head jerked up, massive jaws dripping with blood and shreds of meat. 

 

Shit!

 

Dante knew there was no way he hadn’t been spotted, a suspicion confirmed by an angry snarl. The human had a split second to act before a half-ton of angry muscle was charging at him. Long claws scrabbled on ancient wood. Eyes gleamed in the darkness. 

 

Dante didn’t hesitate, dropping low to dive into the doorway and roll inside, narrowly dodging the first massive paw that came swiping towards his head. He had to keep the wolf inside, where his movement was limited by the confined space and he couldn’t escape them. The next swipe followed quickly, and this time the six-inch claws breezed through his hair. 

 

Too close. 

 

Dante was still half on his side, unable to stand without getting hit. The second the massive paw thundered downwards, shaking the entire cabin, Dante rammed a wooden stake straight through it. 

 

The beast howled in pain, the sound ear-splitting. Dante pressed his advantage, driving another stake through the beast’s left eye. The creature was in a frenzy now, it’s stench overpowering. 

 

The stakes would hurt and distract, but there was no chance whatsoever he could actually kill it with them. All Dante had to do was buy his partner a few seconds. 

 

“Alex!” Short of breath, Dante dodged again as the wolf leapt at him, “any time!”

 

~

 

There were days when Alex wondered if some deity had been looking out for the pair of them on the day of his execution. A rookie hunter just barely out of childhood and a vampire who had only recently passed the hundred year mark against the most powerful vampires Alex had ever known weren’t the greatest of odds. Alex had been minutes away from death as he watched rays of sunlight drift ever closer. He’d closed his eyes and waited for his end, he’d silently hoped he’d done enough in undeath to make up for all the horrible things he’d done in life, not to mention being a vampire, to maybe avoid an eternity of damnation. Maybe Dante had been the answer to an unspoken prayer, or perhaps it had been a divine move to grant him more time to atone. 

 

Alex hadn’t been a religious person in life, the family that had taken him in brought him to mass, even going as far as to insist he be baptized and what not. Later in life, Alex found the whole thing hypocritical, a family — an organization — of liars and killers hiding behind a façade of piety, as if that detracted from all the monstrous things they did... Things they did to Alex and to countless others, things they made him do...

 

Alex vividly remembered the day they put a gun into his hands, he had been barely more than a child, though back in the 1920s things had been different in that regard. After years of doing their bidding, hurting and killing innocent and occasionally not so innocent people, he was given the set of silver daggers he’d grown fond of over the years. While being an extremely useful weapon, they were also a constant reminder of his previous life. The same daggers he used to torture, torment, and kill people with eventually ended up ending countless evil creatures after his rebirth. He had always hoped all the innocent lives he’d inadvertently saved as a vampire would somehow make up for all the innocent lives he was involved in taking as a human. 

 

While Alex had waited for his end, ready to meet whatever fate a God he barely believed in had in store for him, he sensed the presence of something living beside him. His eyes had snapped open just as he watched a human boy hacking away at the silver chains that were burning into Alex’s wrists. In truth, he’d half expected to witness the elders rip the young hunter apart before meeting his own demise, not that he wanted that, but he hadn’t expected either of them to make it out alive. His initial opinion quickly changed when Dante threw canisters emitting some kind of mist at the aforementioned elders. Alex hadn’t been familiar with the technology at the time, but it held the elders at bay and gave them enough time to escape. 

 

The actual escape was mostly a blur of running and hiding. If they were caught again, Alex was certain the young hunter would die a horrible, painful death and Alex wasn’t about to let that happen. He did remember bits, as they fled the chamber, leading them through catacombs, knowing the entire coven would be hot on their heels, but knowing it wasn’t safe for him to go above ground until nightfall. Thankfully, the catacombs were massive, stretching for miles and even into the sewer system of the outskirts of Albany. 

 

As curious as he was, Alex didn’t think they’d have time for a question and answer session while running. He’d wanted to know who the boy was, why he’d rescued him, but most importantly why did he stupidly walk into the home of a coven of bloodthirsty monsters alone? By the time they’d made it to safety in Albany, any questions Alex had faded from his mind. A few vampires pursued them, Alex fought them off as well as he could, all while guiding them through the pitch black catacombs. He’d been exhausted and half starved, resisting the desire to feed on the human who had saved him from a gruesome fate. After hours of Alex exercising more restraint than he thought possible, night came and he went out to hunt in the forest before meeting back up with Dante. 

 

As the pair ran together, Alex was more than willing to offer up answers to any questions Dante might have had. He didn’t really need much prompting considering Dante’s role in interrupting Alex’s execution. If the vampire remembered correctly, he didn’t think his own questions went over very well. Then again, to his knowledge most hot headed, young adults don’t like hearing the question  _ ‘what were you thinking?!’ _ He had been certain he’d sounded like an angry parent, he was pretty sure he even asked where Dante’s parents were and if they knew he was out past curfew. He was sure that line of questions hadn’t gone over well either.

 

Regardless of how rocky that first night had been between them, Alex hadn’t wanted to leave Dante’s side. At first Alex tried to get as far from New York as possible, to recuperate and evade the remnants of his coven. It wasn’t long before they started to actively hunt, Alex wanting the peace of mind that came with purging any survivors from his coven, followed by them chasing after leads involving things other than just vampires. Initially, running, hunting, and guiding Dante were all that mattered, then as a few years went by, things shifted in a way. Alex was fond of Dante and it went beyond feeling indebted or anything, he also grew to find comfort in the little things that hadn’t mattered to him before. Much like the smell of a worn leather jacket and cigarette smoke, Alex found that those little things comforted him with their familiarity and association with his partner. 

 

_ “Yeah,” ... “I know. Let’s see how things go in New York. Depending on our welcome, maybe we can ask around, start digging.” _

 

Thinking of New York, thinking of his sire, and everything else only fed into Alex’s anxiety. If Alex died, then he died, that wasn’t what really scared him. He’d always had a sinking fear that if his sire was still lurking about, if he happened to catch up to them, that he wouldn’t simply kill Alex and be done with it. Alex had seen how evil and sadistic his sire could be when enraged, he’d had years of material to fuel his worst nightmares after all. Weighing all the possibilities, Alex was pretty sure his sire would make him watch while finding the most painful way to kill Dante in front of him. After that he wouldn’t even need to bother killing Alex, who was already committed to not outliving his partner. 

 

“It’s just a loose end,” Alex replied, lying because they both knew it was more than that. 

 

As long as the man who had turned Alex into an undead abomination was well and truly dead, he would never be able to stop looking over his shoulder. In reality, it was a mix of closure, revenge, and ensuring there was one less threat to Dante. Dante who had become the only force pushing Alex along, night after night, a lone star in the sky when every other source of light went out. It was silly, stupid even, to gush over his partner even in his own mind as he’d never voice these thoughts. Even stupider was getting this attached to someone who could die, but he couldn’t help it and what was done was done. 

 

While up in the tree, Alex tried to clear his mind. So much had been brought up that evening, several trips were taken down memory lane and right then he didn’t want to be distracted while in a potentially dangerous situation. He watched, silent and ready as the werewolf entered the shack. When Dante pursued the werewolf, Alex stood up, balancing easily on the branch he’d been crouched on. 

 

Was it the best idea to let Dante take the lead? When they’d partnered up four years ago the answer would have been a no, but Dante was older now, more mature, certainly more experienced than the nineteen-year-old with ice packs in his jacket who had helped Alex escape certain death. That and when push came to shove, Alex would always have Dante’s back, and they always found a way.

 

With Dante creeping up behind the werewolf, who was tearing into the day-old slab of meat on the table, Alex continued to wait a little longer. He didn’t want to potentially lose the element of surprise should it come in handy. He stood up when Dante stood just outside of the shack, balancing easily on the branch he’d been crouched on. The vampire could hear the sounds of the wolf tearing into the deer, so he knew the bait was working at least. Then, as if this were too easy, Alex heard a howl far off in the distance. Jerking his head around in the direction of the howl, he wondered for a split second how long they’d have before the source of that second howl became a problem.

 

By the time Alex looked back to the entrance of the shack, Dante has disappeared inside. Alex could head a scuffle going on inside and dropped out of the tree, heels slamming into the wood of the porch and cracking the boards from the impact. If Alex has been mortal the drop probably should have shattered his knees and ankles. He heard the wolf inside howling in pain as Dante stabbed it in the paw with one stake and then the eye with another. Alex moved quickly, slamming the door shut behind him and bathing the cabin in darkness. The hope has been to contain the werewolf already inside and slow down anything that might be heading their way.

 

In spite of the darkness, Alex could still see fine. He suspected the werewolf could also see just as well in the dark through its one eye, thought this might leave Dante at a disadvantage. 

 

_ “Alex!” ... “any time!”  _

 

The sound of his own name urged Alex into action. He rushed forward, passed Dante, a soft “I’m here,” uttered inches from the human’s ear his only greeting as Alex threw himself at the wolf, his knees hitting it in the chest, causing it to stumble back a bit. Armed with his knives, he moved to drive one into its chest, but jumped back instead as the paw with a stake stuck in it swiped at him. Lunging forward again, Alex quickly in one smooth movement sheathed his right dagger and reach to grab the injured paw. While twisting the paw, as if to break it, Alex felt the other one swipe at him. He barely dodged it, feeling claws tear through the side of his jacket. This time, Alex dropped his left dagger, letting the clang of metal against wood echo through the cabin as he grabbed a paw in each hand and tried to wrestle the massive creature to the ground. 

 

“Some rope would be nice!” Alex called over his shoulder, all while having a bizarre, two armed wrestling match with a werewolf. 

 

Suddenly, Alex jerked his head back as the wolf snapped at him with its rows of sharp, yellowed teeth. Grimacing, both at its breath and how close he was to having his face bitten off, Alex in a moment of irritation, responded by biting it. He let his fangs into the werewolf’s shoulder, mostly to take the fight out of it and because his hands were busy. It howled in pain, as Alex jerked his head, tearing out a chunk of flesh. A moment later, he heard another howl, outside the cabin and closer than it had been before.

 

Knowing they had less and less time, Alex used his grip on the uninjured paw to swing his body around behind the wolf. It took a second, but he was able to forcefully pull both front limbs behind it, leaving its chest exposed. It was dark, even if the door had been opened there wasn’t much light outside that would reach this part of the cabin. Alex had dropped one of his daggers on the floor in front of the wolf, Dante has three silver bullets, and a long silver blade strapped to his back. Things went a little off the rails, but it wasn’t a hopeless situation, at least not yet.

 

“Dante, you’re going to have to kill it,” Alex called out, matter of factly as the wolf strained against him. As much as he hated to admit it, he was struggling to keep its paws from breaking free of his grip. “I’ve got its front paws secured, you just have to stab it through the heart.”

 

~

 

Dante definitely felt his life flashing before his eyes as he narrowly missed being snapped in half by powerful jaws, ducking in time to avoid the immediate threat. He wasn’t counting on the werewolf pivoting suddenly, his half-ton body hitting the hunter like a freight train. 

 

Dante felt the breath leave his body in a pained grunt as he flew across the room and his spine hit the edge of the table, doubling him nearly in half. He fell to the floorboards, stunned, but managed to roll just enough to avoid another snap of teeth as they descended. He kept rolling until he was under the table, flipping it over for cover and bracing his shoulder against it just in time. The wolf’s body hit the now-sideways table with unbelievable force, sending both it and the hunter sliding backwards against the opposite wall. 

 

Dante had known this one would be a bit of a fight, but it was possible he may have slightly underestimated the young wolf. Thank god the beast was inexperienced, allowing animal rage to decide his every movement, because damn was he strong. And why wouldn’t he be? He had certainly been eating his fill. 

 

Dante made it out from behind the table just in time. The enraged wolf descended on it like a demon, and for a moment all he could hear was the ring of snapping teeth and the splinter of ripping wood as it was torn to splinters. 

 

Dante felt more than heard Alex enter the cabin with them, slamming the door shut and effectively sealing all three of them inside. 

 

So a vampire, a hunter, and a werewolf walk into a bar... 

 

The quiet  _ ‘I’m here’ _ close to his ear made Dante’s chest relax just a fraction and his skin prickle with anticipation. Of course Alex was here. Nowadays that was the one solid truth in his universe. 

 

Unfortunately with his partner’s entrance, even the minimal half-light was robbed from him, leaving the hunter blind in the darkness. It wasn’t the first time. He kept low to the floor, hearing the creature howl in pain. He hoped Alex had been able to stab it. His grasping, searching fingers hit something metal and he felt it slide across the floor. A weapon? 

 

_ ‘Some rope would be nice!’ _ Alex’s voice was typically calm, but Dante could hear the note of strain. 

 

Out of time. Dante lunged for whatever he had touched and closed his first over a sharp blade. Fuck, that wasn’t ideal. His grip slick from his now-bleeding palm, he quickly found the handle and snatched up what he now recognized as one of Alex’s daggers. With his free hand he tore loose the coil of rope hanging from his belt and quickly fashioned a noose. He had no idea how he was going to use it without being able to see even an inch in front of his face, but he could be ready when Alex needed him. The sounds of the two creatures fighting, bouncing off walls and splintered wood was deafening in the small space. 

 

_ “Dante, you’re going to have to kill it... I’ve got its front paws secured, you just have to stab it through the heart.” _

 

Dante could feel his pulse racing. What if he missed? He would only have one chance to strike the killing blow, but that wasn’t what had his blood running cold. It was the idea that if his aim was off; if he somehow couldn’t trust his senses in the dark... he might kill his partner. The same blade he clenched in slick fingers could kill the wolf, but it was just as deadly against Alex. 

 

The wolf howled in rage and pain, and the sound was so unbelievably loud in the small cabin it felt like the hunter’s ears were bleeding. It might be his only signal, an echo in the dark to mark his prey’s location. The human sprinted forward, his left hand finding a thick fistful of wolf fur, and his right plunging the dagger down with all his strength. The scream that followed was the wolf’s, and although Dante had clearly not hit the heart he also hadn’t hit Alex. Thank Christ. He held on tight against the bucking creature, grateful he couldn’t be reached by those deadly claws, and pulled the dagger out. He struck again, and again and yet again, until he was dripping in wolf blood and the massive body beneath him was finally still. 

 

Chest heaving for breath, the hunter shoved himself backwards to stand. 

 

“Cover yourself in blood,” he directed, voice rough with strain. “Mask your smell.” 

 

Whatever was coming would smell the wolf on them of course, but more importantly, they wouldn’t smell vampire. 

 

Dante flipped over the blood-caked blade still in his hand and shoved it into his thigh rig with his stakes. He’d need to clean it before returning it to Alex. Not because there was wolf blood on it, but because there was some of his own as well.

 

The long, piercing howls were on the hillside now. Too close for comfort. 

 

“We need to run.”

 

~

 

In the darkness of the cabin, Alex could clearly see Dante, though he was well aware the human couldn’t see him or the wolf. Initially, Alex had hoped to get the rope to restrain the creature and stab it through the heart, but right then seconds mattered and he’d managed to make do without it. It wasn’t ideal and the wolf had taken to slamming it’s back against the walls, trying to force Alex off of it. If he’d been mortal, Alex was certain his back ribs would have cracked from the force. At some point both the vampire and the werewolf ended up on the floor, Alex doing everything he could to keep it from getting free of him, though it was difficult. This creature had been feeding well, while Alex had taken to surviving off of animals and blood bags, both inadequate compared to fresh human blood in terms of keeping up his strength. 

 

The only saving grace was the fact that the pained sounds coming out of the wolf, not to mention the sounds of Alex struggling with it, could give Dante some indication of where they were located as they thrashed around. Watching in the dark as Dante picked up his discarded silver dagger, Alex knew he’d have to keep his grip on the wolf and dodge his own blade. When Dante rushed forward and grabbed at the wolf, Alex adjusted himself to make sure he didn’t accidentally get stabbed instead. With each following stab, Alex twisted and turned, making sure the blade never got so much a chance to graze him. After Dante stabbed at the creature, it eventually went still, tension leaving its limbs as it died. 

 

_ “Cover yourself in blood,” ... “Mask your smell.”  _

 

Alex didn’t need telling twice as he reached down, coating his gloves in fresh blood oozing out of the werewolf. He didn’t want to think of what might happen if a pack, as it sounded as if there were several howls, caught up to them. That and vampires and werewolves had a...notorious hatred for one another. They’d certainly kill him if they could, though he was sure they’d view Dante as something to eat. Smearing the wolf’s still warm blood on himself, he moved quickly, trying to get it on his clothes, then his face, and going as far as to get a decent amount in his hair. He probably looked horrifying covered in blood and for a second he was glad it was too dark for Dante to see him. 

 

_ “We need to run.”  _

 

Knowing they had little time left, and that his left dagger was safely with Dante, Alex stood up from his crouched position beside the wolf and sprinted to the door. He held it open, waiting for Dante to get out and down the porch steps. A part of Alex hoped the scent of the dead wolf’s corpse would draw their attention to the cabin, and away from the pair of hunters. If there were several though, some of the pack might come after them if they caught the scent of wolf blood on them. Then again, wolf blood might simply make them curious about the situation, the scent of vampire or human would have them chasing after them with murderous intent. 

 

“If they catch up to us, keep running,” Alex said, not winded in the slightest as he kept pace with Dante. He easily could have been half way down the mountain by now if he’d gone at full speed. However, his goal wasn’t to win a foot race, his goal to ensure that if the worst case scenario happened, Dante would at least make it to safety. 

 

During their attempt at fleeing, Alex tried to gauge how many werewolves might be in the area and if they’d made it to the cabin yet. Distantly behind them, Alex heard the sound of creaking wood, indicating something might be at least on the porch if not inside. He very much doubted Dante could hear the sounds of creaking, but he probably heard a series of more howls that followed. If Alex were to take a guess, the pack had found the body and were communicating. Unfortunately he couldn’t be sure what they were conveying with their howls, if they were glad or angry over finding a dead wolf. What he did know was that neither of them would want to stick around to find out. 

 

“You’ve got the keys?” Alex asked, looking straight ahead as he dodged a low hanging branch. Normally he wouldn’t have asked, but the absolute worst thing that could happen would be them arriving at the car at the base of the mountain only to find the keys missing.

 

~

 

Dante didn’t try to search the forest around them as they bolted from the bloody cabin, knowing if there was danger in the trees Alex would warn him. He couldn’t waste precious time. The wolves were likely focused on the cabin, drawn in by the scent of fresh meat and the blood of their own kind. Where they might look after that wasn’t a subject he wanted to dwell on. 

 

“If they catch up to us, keep running.” 

 

At a dead sprint, Dante didn’t have the breath to waste on an answer. Alex had to know there was no way in hell Dante would ever leave his partner to fight alone, so why he insisted on comments like that were beyond his comprehension. He’d go down fighting next to Alex, or he’d make it out alive with Alex. As far as he was concerned those were the only two options. 

 

Dripping in blood and gore, the human knew the pair had to make a terrifying sight sprinting through the trees. Dante couldn’t go quite as fast as he would have liked since there were no paths up here, only winding narrow deer trails and sparse spaces between the towering pines. The howl of wolves was coming from behind them now, so at least he knew they were distracted by the cabin as he’d hoped. If he was lucky they might even finish off whatever remained of the deer meat. 

 

He was very rarely lucky. 

 

_ “You’ve got the keys?” _

 

“Yes I have the fucking keys,” Dante grit his teeth as yet another branch whipped across his face.

 

Not for the first time, he envied his partner’s grace and speed. Dante had always considered himself composed, light on his feet, a fighter built for speed and maneuverability. That all changed when he gained a partner who moved like a dancer, never a misstep or stumble. The vampire made Dante feel like a bull in a china shop by comparison. 

 

Running downhill, even impeded by the thick underbrush, made for a significantly quicker journey than the hike up. Of course this time they were unimpeded by loads of old meat and lumber, and driven by the wolves that were surely hot on their trail by now. Still, it seemed to take ages before the trees began to thin around them and their destination cane into sight. 

 

The 80’s model Jeep Cherokee with peeling green paint and missing hubcaps was parked at the bottom of the mountain, the farthest up they could possibly drive on the narrow state park trails. Thankfully he’d made sure it was parked facing downhill in the event they might need a quick getaway.

 

Dante skidded down the loose leaves and dirt to the bottom of the slope, hitting the side of the Jeep with his momentum and leaving smears of blood on the door. Dante shoved the keys into the lock, losing only a moment as his gore-slicked fingers slipped on the key. He threw himself into the driver's seat and across the center console to unlock the passenger-side door. He had the engine running by the time Alex joined him. 

 

“Next time we boost a car, we need automatic locks,” he gasped, throwing the car into gear. The second his foot dropped onto the gas, something heavy hit the side of the Jeep. The human barely heard the curse that involuntarily tore from him as the entire vehicle rocked dangerously, broken glass spraying across his vision. The sound of long claws scraping down the side of the car set his teeth on edge. 

 

“Hold on!” He stomped on the gas pedal, hearing the yelp of surprised pain as they hit... something, taking off down the trail in a cloud of dust. He took a dark satisfaction in the sound. 

 

“We’re not out of the woods yet,” he muttered to himself as they rocketed dangerously down the steep trails. He couldn’t resist flashing a wide grin over at Alex. “Pun fully intended.”

 

~

 

Alex always hoped that if death were a certainty that Dante would finally develop a sense of self-preservation strong enough to override his stubbornness and just listen. Then again, the kid who canister bombed a group of elder vampires and lived to tell about it hadn’t grown up to be the type of man who ran away from danger. Either way, it seemed that their partnership would always be a together or not at all situation. 

 

_ “Yes I have the fucking keys.” _

The sound of branches hitting Dante didn’t go unnoticed by Alex, who once or twice thought about just picking the human up and sprinting full speed down the mountain. Of course, he didn’t actually want to try something like that with how dense the forest was, knowing full well it would likely only slow them both down. Alex, even as a human, had always had a certain gracefulness to his movements, his vampirism only amplified that grace. If he were carrying anything larger than a sack of potatoes he was pretty sure even he’d have trouble maneuvering around the tangles of branches, overgrowth, and roots. 

 

As they ran, Alex could clearly hear werewolves, as in multiples, chasing after them. They were still a ways up the mountain, but they would catch up soon enough from what he could discern. Hearing them drawn closer and closer to them, Alex silently hoped they couldn’t catch the scent of vampire and human under the wolf blood. One thing he definitely didn’t want was for a pack of angry werewolves to have the ability to track them when they got away. ‘When’ being more certain now as the Jeep came into view, though Alex wasn’t ready to relax until they were both inside and speeding down the highway. 

 

With Dante hitting the driver’s side of the Jeep and unlocking the door, Alex smoothly jumped over the hood and over to the passenger side door. Looking over Dante’s shoulder, he was horrified to see the wolves through the trees pursuing them, bounding closer and closer by the second. As soon as Dante was inside and unlocked Alex’s door, he jumped in, slamming the door behind him as the engine roared to life. 

 

_ “Next time we boost a car, we need automatic locks.”  _

 

Alex looked up just in time to see one of their pursuers slam full bodied against the driver’s side of the Jeep. Glass shattered and was sprayed inwards over the pair, which didn’t bother Alex, but he’d hoped Dante didn’t accidentally cut himself on it later when they made it to civilization. He did agree though, automatic locks could very well have meant seconds of difference between life and death. 

 

“I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a Maserati when we get to New York,” Alex replied, his tone flat, almost dry, but this was probably as close to humor as he got. 

 

_ “Hold on!” ... “We’re not out of the woods yet. Pun fully intended.”  _

 

“Hold on to...what?” Alex intoned mostly to himself while securing his seatbelt, despite not really needing it. As they Jeep picked up speed down the trail Alex was grateful they weren’t driving an overpriced luxury vehicle. In the dim light of the Jeep’s interior, bright red eyes looked over at Dante who was grinning at him after making a terrible pun. Alex groaned the sort of groan one might make after hearing a pun. 

 

Turning his attention to the windows, Alex took up scanning the tree line for any trace of more werewolves. Just because they were encased in metal and rocketing even further down the mountain, Alex didn’t think now as the time to let his guard down. Then again, he wasn’t sure they’d be able to do anything if the wolves happened to go for the tires or try to make them crash. From time to time, Alex caught glimpses of fur, fangs, and claws, but they appeared to be falling behind as the Jeep picked up speed. Gradually, the trees started to thin out and the trail became a little less hazardous. 

 

“Well...that was certainly...” the vampire trailed off, not thinking ‘exciting’ was the right word. “If I were still mortal I would have died of a heart attack,” Alex said finally, not because he was afraid for himself of course. “So about getting more silver...”

 

~

 

Dante knew the wolves were trying to keep pace with them in the trees, could almost feel them. He kept the gas pedal pressed mercilessly against the floorboard, not daring to cut speed for even a moment. The Jeep careened over potholes, ditches, and tree roots, rocking them from side to side. The hunter knew that besides whatever body damage the wolves had inflicted on the exterior of the battered vehicle, the suspension and transmission were going to be completely shot by the time they made it back to civilization. Not to mention the blood-soaked seats. It was definitely time for an upgrade. 

 

The snarls tracking them through the trees eventually faded away, and then stopped altogether. The wolves didn’t seem interested in pursuing them as much as driving them away, and in that they had succeeded. It was almost too good to be true, but the hunter didn’t ask questions. Not when they had scraped through by the skin of their teeth. 

 

_ “Well...that was certainly... If I were still mortal I would have died of a heart attack,” _

 

Dante felt a laugh burst out of his lips, full of relief and adrenaline. As far as close calls went this hunt was nowhere near the top of their long list... but it was certainly a solid contender. It has at least been a long time since they’d cut it this close. 

 

_ “So about getting more silver...” _

 

“Yeah...” Dante wiped dripping blood and slivers of glass away from his eyes as they hit the main road, the terrain evening out as the pavement wound more gently down through the surrounding forest. “Silver. Definitely time to stock up. First priority.”


	2. You're Nobody Till Somebody Wants You Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short lived reprieve.

The human released a long huff of breath and allowed himself to ease back at last into the driver’s seat, his white-knuckled grip relaxing on the steering wheel. Almost every inch of him was still dripping with wolf guts, but it seemed like a small sacrifice for survival.

 

His mind was already racing with a plan for their next steps. Thankfully they had a motel room down the mountain in Stoneham, but they couldn’t risk staying there much longer. The second someone saw the car there would be questions. He needed to wash both of their clothes, clean their weapons, find somewhere to scrub the Jeep out without being disturbed. He definitely needed to check the vehicle over and make sure it could make the drive to New York without falling apart.

 

“Damn I need a shower,” he remarked aloud without really needing a response, and looked over at his partner to make sure he was still there... still alive, still with him. The vampire looked thoroughly bedraggled with his bloody hair and clothing, but still infinitely calm and unbothered. Gleaming red eyes shone in a face crimson with wolf’s blood.

 

Dante felt a surge of familiar warmth spark in his chest like a firecracker. Fondness, admiration, affection. The only other person he’d ever cared about so deeply was his long-gone father, but in Alex’s case those feelings were definitely not accompanied by fear and resentment. Instead, there was something stronger he didn’t dare name.

 

“You’re not hurt, are you?” He questioned out of habit. The vampire didn’t look injured, but it was second nature to make certain.

 

Within an hour the Jeep was pulling into a tiny parking lot at the West Bethel Inn, although calling the rundown rows of rooms an “Inn” was being generous. It was the most covert location available in the tiny town of Stoneham, but there really hadn’t been any reason to worry. No other cars had come through and Dante was fairly certain they were currently the only guests. They hadn’t been disturbed by so much as a cleaning lady since checking in yesterday.

 

Adrenaline long-since worn off, Dante’s fingers were sluggish with exhaustion as he slipped the keycard into the reader. Their room was the farthest from the small office on the end of the building, but he still cast a furtive glance up the walkway to ensure they were still alone. The coast seemed clear. He led the way inside, flicking on the buzzing fluorescent light.

 

The hunter mechanically stripped his jacket off, dropping it onto the tile in the tiny kitchenette. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to salvage it, but he could at least try. Boots and weapons came next, laid out systematically on the counter to be cleaned later. He stripped all the way down to his boxers, bunching up his bloody clothes and heading into the bathroom.

 

“You wanna bring me your clothes, I’ll get em cleaned up,” he called over his shoulder to Alex.

 

The hunter leaned down at the tub, turning on the water and throwing the mess of fabric in. The water ran red almost immediately. His hands, face, and as much of his hair as he could reach were rinsed in the sink. By the time he straightened up he looked marginally more human, besides the small cuts decorating his left cheekbone and a lovely bruise blossoming across his collarbone. He had no idea where the hell that had come from, but then again, adrenaline was a hell of a painkiller. The slice on his palm wasn’t deep enough to be concerning, but it was still bleeding. A nuisance more than anything. The hunter ripped up a questionably-stained hand-towel to tie around it, thinking they were insanely lucky to have come out of that as unscathed as they had. It could so easily have gone the other way.

 

The quick rinse would have to do until he could get a proper shower. For now, he was more concerned about the clothes. Dante didn’t exactly have an extensive wardrobe, and if there was any chance he could get the garments clean he was going to make it work.

 

~

 

Alex had been mostly joking about the Maserati, but he was seriously considering how they could go about upgrading all of their equipment. Even necessities, like clothing, had been skimped on at times in favor of making sure they’d have even the slightest advantage on a hunt. For four years they had made do with what they could, but Alex found it more than a little frustrating in his own way, though he had never expressed his frustration.

 

“Automatic locks would be nice, but having an off-road vehicle would be ideal,” Alex said after a moment, knowing New York City would be overflowing with cars and SUVs more suited for paved roads and parking garages. “...We’re also going to need gas at some point on our way out of Maine,” he added, knowing they were fine on gas right then.

 

_“Yeah...” ... “Silver. Definitely time to stock up. First priority.”_

 

With Dante’s agreement on the silver issue, Alex contemplated what else they’d need. Transportation and weapons were critically important in their line of work, but he also had to remember that Dante needed food, not to mention a place to sleep. Thinking more on the city they were heading to, Alex wondered how long they’d be there. As much as he didn’t want to dwell, he knew it was a good place to recharge and restock before going off on another cross-country hunt.

 

“Silver first...but we should probably also look into holy water too,” Alex commented, knowing it was a lifesaver in a sticky situation. Though he wasn’t particularly eager to be the one hang onto vials of the stuff. The last thing he needed in a fight was for the glass or plastic vials to break in his pocket. “Mostly because vampires are fond of overcrowded cities with a high crime rate,” Alex added, implying once again his concerns about being hunted while hunting in the city. “And, you know, water blessed by a priest is much cheaper than silver.”

 

Alex watched as Dante’s grip on the steering wheel relaxed a bit as they got further away from the mountain. Reaching over, Alex turned on the radio, then sunk back into his seat for the duration of the drive down. The radio had been left on whatever station Dante had left it on, as Alex himself rarely touched it. Turning his attention back to the window, Alex stared unblinkingly at the passing scenery until they pulled into the cheap motel in Stoneham.

 

_“Damn I need a shower,”_

 

Turning back to Dante, Alex looked over his partner, knowing full well he too was covered in about the same amount of gore. The smell was pretty bad, though not nearly as bad as the dead deer had been. Still, Alex wasn’t thrilled about the overwhelmingly strong wolf smell in the Jeep and if the window hadn’t broken Alex would have insisted on rolling them down. The only reason he didn’t roll his side down was because the handle had broken off long ago.

 

_“You’re not hurt, are you?”_

 

“I think I’ll live...or...well...” Alex shrugged being very much not alive. “No lasting damage was caused,” he said, giving an actual answer. “Are you alright?”

 

It was endearing hearing that Dante was concerned, despite Alex being much harder to injure or kill between the two of them. He’d sustained some damage, bruises along his back and torso that he’d gotten while grappling with the werewolf, but those had healed almost immediately. When the werewolf had swiped at him he’d avoided injury again, but his jacket was torn a bit, though Alex was sure mending it would be simple enough.

 

When they arrived at the motel, Alex waited for Dante to lead the way. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait for an invitation since one had been given when they’d first arrived. Following Dante inside, Alex peeled his own blood-soaked jacket off, grimacing as he also pulled off his shirt and set it on top of the ripped jacket. Most of Alex’s clothing choices had inadvertently been influenced by Dante, mostly because Alex was very much out of time. If left to his own devices he likely would have been strolling around in a mishmash of tacky articles of clothing from the turn of the century up until the 90s.

 

As Dante continued to strip down, Alex removed one of his daggers from its sheath, inspecting it before slipping it back in, satisfied it wasn’t damaged. He glanced over his shoulder, recalling Dante had its twin when they’d fled the cabin. Not wanting to asking for it back right then, Alex worked on unlacing his own boots, then set them aside. They were caked in mud, grass, and blood, much like everything else. With his boots off, his gloves, then jeans and socks were also removed and added to Alex’s pile of bloody clothes, leaving him in the same state of undress as Dante.

 

_“You wanna bring me your clothes, I’ll get em cleaned up,”_

 

Standing up, Alex brought his clothes over to the bathroom where Dante was currently throwing his own clothing into the tub. Alex doubted the red would ever really come out of the dark blue fabric of the jeans, but everything else was black and likely wouldn’t show any real difference. Then again, Alex wasn’t too concerned about appearances, or at least not very interested in whether blood blue jeans were in season right then.

 

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Alex asked, aware of the scent of Dante’s blood in the air as he approached. When he actually caught sight of Dante, taking note of the injuries, he was glad nothing looked too severe. There were no broken bones to set or gashes to stitch up, which was a blessing in of itself. “And I don’t just mean cuts and broken bones, does anything feel off?” From experience, he knew human bodies could take a beating, but he also knew sometimes those beatings could have lasting effects and Dante was only going to keep getting older. “I’d rather not having you die in your sleep from a concussion or something equally absurd after surviving a pack of werewolves.”

 

With Alex’s clothing joining Dante’s in the tub, he caught sight of the drying blood stuck to his hair and face. As disgusting as it was, Alex was more than willing to wait for Dante to finish cleaning himself up. Something about Dante’s scent being overpowered by anything, whether it was wolf bait or wolf itself, bothered Alex in a way he couldn’t describe. Waiting outside the bathroom, even going as far as to plop down into one of two chairs at the table, Alex examined the back of his left hand.

 

There was a deep scar there, one indicating a knife had gone through it once upon a time. He’d been human at the time and worried it would end his career, or rather, make him no longer an asset to his ‘family.’ Now though, it was just an unpleasant reminder of his past life that not even his current condition could heal. Vampirism only healed damage acquired after he’d been turned, but it had given the scar on his left hand, as well as the jagged one along his right forearm, an unnatural, silvery, pearlescent gleam to it.

 

~

 

_“Are you sure you’re alright?”_

 

Dante met his partner’s eyes in the mirror as the vampire entered the bathroom with him, gray orbs locking with red.

 

“Fine,” Dante returned shortly, though without malice. “Nothing that’ll keep me off my feet.” It was useless at this point to fuss over the cuts and bruises, the scars that were the unavoidable collateral of every hunt collected like memories in a scrapbook. If they could stay standing, they could keep hunting. The injuries would heal. A little perspective, remembering the truly serious injuries they had both acquired at different points in time, made the smaller ones feel like wear and tear.

 

_“And I don’t just mean cuts and broken bones, does anything feel off. I’d rather not have you die in your sleep from a concussion or something equally absurd after surviving a pack of werewolves.”_

 

“You’re thinking too loud,” Dante flashed a smile dulled by weariness. “I’m not hiding anything. All things considered, we got lucky.” He couldn’t blame the vampire for his borderline paranoia, especially as he could definitely smell the blood coming from Dante, however small the amount. The human had the same overprotective streak and was probably a lot worse at hiding it. At the same time, Dante had attempted to hide injuries from Alex in the past, always with terrible results. He couldn’t exactly blame the vampire for being suspicious.

 

Dante didn’t let his eyes linger too long on Alex’s shirtless torso, on well-defined muscles and sculpted lines. He felt a wistful flash of jealousy, knowing the same small injuries that decorated his own lean-muscled limbs with countless scars of various sizes would leave Alex unblemished. The vampire was a sports car, polished with a new paint job, and Dante was a beater. Pockmarked by abuse and neglect, showing the history of every unkind hand that had ever touched it.

 

The human pulled his gaze away quickly. Alex was too perceptive to miss continued scrutiny, and that was an awkward conversation the human never planned to have with his partner if he could possibly avoid it. He was still a little more conscious than usual of their state of half-dress in such a small space, and found himself releasing a short breath of relief when Alex finally retreated to the bedroom.

 

Dante returned his full focus to the task at hand, bottles of detergent and ammonia retrieved from one of his equipment cases. He knelt over the tub, muscles burning as he put some elbow grease into scrubbing his dark jeans with a stiff brush.

 

Dante was exhausted, but the self-imposed weight of responsibility driving into his shoulders rarely let him rest. Definitely not when there was so much he had to get done. He knew it came off as obsessive at times, and the word “control freak” had definitely been thrown out there more than once, but it was a drive within himself he no longer had any control over. A fire roared in his chest, fueled by bitterness, responsibility, guilt. It pushed him forward like nitrous in his veins, forbidding peace. To work, to research, to train, to lose himself in preparation and strategy.

 

“Guess we need to put together a shopping list,” he talked out loud while he worked, thinking about the suggestions Alex had made for possible vehicles once they got to New York.

 

“An SUV would be most practical, plenty of room in the back for gear. Something like a 4-Runner or another old Jeep. Of course, they won’t have the locks...” He knew the vampire could hear him easily from the other room, and might possibly remember Dante’s conclusions later on when the human himself couldn’t. It was a habit of note-taking aloud he had picked up somewhere over the course of the years.

 

“Of course a sedan would be more low-profile, and easier to boost. Always had good luck with Honda’s and Toyota’s. Limits off-roading though.” He bit his lip as he scrubbed at a stubborn spot, “guess we’ll have to keep our eyes peeled on the way into the city. See what we can find, work from there.” A Maserati would be nice, actually, he thought distantly. At least to take for a joy ride.

 

The human rocked back on his heels with a huff, running the jeans under the clean water and standing to hang them from a confiscated shower curtain ring. If he left the clothes hanging overnight, possibly with the fan on in the bathroom for air flow, they would be mostly dry by morning. They both stuck to shades of black or dark blue for just such scenarios, knowing the material would more easily hide the stains of their trade.

 

Once every month or so he made Alex accompany him to an actual laundromat where they could run their battered wardrobe through a real washing machine. Bathtubs and elbow grease only did the job for so long. Dante had gotten pretty good at cleaning their gear with practice, but there really wasn’t a substitute for doing an actual load of laundry.

 

He made quick work of the rest of the clothing, scrubbing dark shirts and jeans with mechanical practice as he rambled on.

 

“We can probably find some two-bit hustler priest at the guild, get them to bless some water for us. Maybe he’ll even have some of the real stuff if he’s not a total hack. Ask around about silver, buy what we can, jack what we can’t.” Alex was right, as he usually was. Silver would be difficult to acquire, but Dante desperately needed to make some bullets as soon as possible. Holy water wasn’t nearly as effective, but it was versatile. Dante was constantly tinkering and concocting, his journals stuffed with endless diagrams and prototypes of inventions designed to weaponize the stuff. He’d had some marginal successes, but short of filling a super-soaker with holy water and spraying down their enemies like preschool rambos, the material would always be difficult to work with.

 

Leaving their vigorously-scrubbed clothes dripping over the tub to dry, Dante made quick work of rinsing the pink-hued bathtub out. “Shower’s all yours,” he informed Alex as he came out of the bathroom. As a rule he didn’t shower himself until everything else was taken care of. The hot water would halfway put him to sleep the second it hit him, and after that he probably wasn’t getting much done. Dante didn’t miss the way the vampire was sitting, his eyes fixated on his own left hand, staring at the scar there like it was speaking to him. Even undead, the human knew Alex wasn’t completely unblemished. Dante felt a brief pang of regret for his earlier envy.

 

He left the vampire to get cleaned up, knowing the smell must be killing him. Dante’s next task was to clean the weapons. He made sure to take care of Alex’s dagger first, a weapon he had come to respect. He left it lying on the small table by the chair his partner had recently vacated, spotless and polished with care. His own weapons hadn’t seen combat, so it was a matter of cleaning the gunked blood off the sheaths, holsters, straps and handles. He finished by running a light sheen of oil over the worn leather, ensuring the material would last as long as possible. He’d lost the rope somewhere along the way, so mentally added that to their to-do list.

 

Their boots were marginally easier to clean, all tough rubber and weather-proofed leather. He would have preferred to hose them off outdoors but couldn’t risk running into anyone, even in the middle of the night. He was still almost naked and smeared with blood. Definitely not a situation he wanted to try to explain to a stranger.

 

By the time the human was finished with his work, it was almost three in the morning. The aftermath of his adrenaline crash coupled with a lack of real food during the day was leaving him lightheaded and a little shaky. He just needed to shower, and then he could pass out for a few hours. Sleep could cure a multitude of sins, and the uncomfortable mattress on the other end of the room was definitely calling his name now.

 

Dante tied off a trash bag filled with bloody hand-towels and bleach wipes, leaving it by the front door to dispose of in the morning. He locked the deadbolt for good measure, and drew a simple Solomon’s seal on the door jamb in black chalk. Just in case. It wouldn’t help against wolves or anything living, and vampires wouldn’t be able to enter without an invitation anyways, but there were other beasts that went bump in the night. When you had as many enemies as he and Alex did, there was no such thing as too many precautions.

 

Pressing his palm flat against the door, Dante briefly shut his eyes and uttered a Catholic prayer of protection under his breath in Latin. Whether it made any real difference at all, he had no idea. It wasn’t as if he exactly believe in the “god” thing. But it was a ritual he had watched his father perform every night without fail until the day of his death, and had later taken up in his place. Like most of the traditions and rituals of the church, the activities disguised as prayer and worship were often a guise for protective spells. Wards against evil uttered in Latin, cloaked in layers of religious symbolism. The church itself existed as a construct of organized religion, hiding under their mass of followers while they shouldered a more bloody responsibility in the shadows.

 

~

 

_“Fine,” ... “Nothing that’ll keep me off my feet.”_

 

Oddly enough, Alex always felt more than a little bad that there was nothing he could do when Dante did get hurt. He had some experience settling broken bones and suturing torn flesh shut from both wars he'd been in, but beyond that there wasn't much he could do. Most of his guilt was the simple fact that he'd easily walk off any damage that wasn't inflicted by fire, sunlight, holy water, or silver, while Dante usually came out with some damage.

 

_“You’re thinking too loud,” ... “I’m not hiding anything. All things considered, we got lucky.”_

 

Alex felt a single eyebrow quirk upward, it was a small, subtle movement while his face remained otherwise impassive. He'd caught Dante hiding injuries before, the only time he'd ever been angry with Dante had been those few times. Of course, the anger never lasted more than a few minutes before quickly devolving into Alex fussing over his partner. After a moment, trying to detect if Dante was actually, truly alright, Alex relented and left the matter alone.

 

“Guess we need to put together a shopping list,” ... “An SUV would be most practical, plenty of room in the back for gear. Something like a 4-Runner or another old Jeep. Of course, they won’t have the locks...” ... “Of course a sedan would be more low-profile, and easier to boost. Always had good luck with Honda’s and Toyota’s. Limits off-roading though.” ... “guess we’ll have to keep our eyes peeled on the way into the city. See what we can find, work from there.”

 

Out in the bedroom, Alex could clearly hear Dante, as well as smell the chemicals being used to try to get the blood out of their clothing. As Dante spoke, Alex compiled a list in his mind of all the things they'd need. So far his memory held up well and supposedly it wouldn't deteriorate with age, or so he'd been told by his sire once upon a time. From time to time Alex wondered if memories would start to fade or if he'd always remember his past crystal clear. As bad as it had been, Alex didn't want to forget his life as a human, after all, it drove him to want to be a better person.

 

Weighing the options, Alex tried not to imagine them careening down a mountain in a beat up old Honda, knowing full well it wouldn't have made it down in one piece. If they'd had better resources, or if they were involved with organized groups of hunters, Alex knew they wouldn't have to make so many difficult choices. That was an impossibility though, as generally speaking few hunters wanted anything to do with a vampire, regardless of whose side he was on. Best case scenario was often they were just shunned, worst case scenario Alex would have to dodge a few bullets or stakes. Once he hadn't been fast enough and ended up with a crossbow bolt centimeters away from his heart. Dante had seemed...less than happy about that if Alex recalled correctly. Personally, Alex wasn't really all that surprised, after all what else should he have expected?

 

_“We can probably find some two-bit hustler priest at the guild, get them to bless some water for us. Maybe he’ll even have some of the real stuff if he’s not a total hack. Ask around about silver, buy what we can, jack what we can’t.”_

 

For the most part, Alex was glad Dante wasn't opposed to the occasional grand theft auto, burglary, or five-fingered discount. Buying was ideal if they wanted to continue doing business with the people willing to do business with them. That being said, Alex wasn't opposed to swiping things from an inattentive shopkeeper, especially if they were particularly vocal about their...distaste for him. Usually, by the time aforementioned rude shopkeepers realized anything was missing, they were long gone and Alex moved too quickly for any camera footage to be any good.

 

Speaking of theft, the few times they were unable to salvage their clothing, Alex was more than happy to free up space in the unattended washing machines and dryers at the laundromats Dante would drag him to when they needed to actually deep clean their clothing. After all, it wasn't unusual for an article of clothing to mysteriously disappear in the wash. It wasn't as if people suspected a vampire was the reason their socks sometimes disappeared, that'd be crazy.

 

_“Shower’s all yours,”_

 

When Dante finally emerged from the bathroom, Alex was still eyeing the scar on the back of his hand. Lost down memory lane again, which he seemed to be more and more frequently. The fact of the matter was he had a lot of unfinished business, both from his human life and with his coven, and sometimes it haunted him. The few times Alex worried he'd start to forget, all it took was one look at the back of his hand and it all came back to him, almost as if it were still the 1920s and everything else had been a dream.

 

Much faster than necessary, and because Alex was really trying to hide how grossed out he was from the smell, he entered the bathroom, though the door remained ajar just in case he needed to hear anything. Standing in the bathroom Alex slipped his darkly colored boxers down his hips leaving them in a pool on the floor before stepping into the shower. Given that he didn't produce sweat or bodily oils, showering for him was like cleaning an inanimate object usually, though sometimes when he had the chance he just liked feeling warm water on his perpetually chilled skin.

 

It took roughly ten, maybe fifteen, minutes for Alex to scrub the caked blood out of his hair using cheap motel shampoo as well as wash off the blood covering his face. He did a once over of the rest of his body, wanting to purge the scent of wolf entirely before he was satisfied. Turning the shower off, he stepped out onto the mat and grabbed one of the coarse towels off of the rack to dry off. He methodically dried himself, then put his boxers back on because his clothes wouldn't be dried for a few hours. Stepping out of the bathroom, he ruffled the towel in his hair, mopping up the moisture as much as possible.

 

"The only thing worse than rotting meat is werewolf," Alex said blandly as he draped the towel over the back of a chair to dry. "I can't believe I bit it too, the taste is as bad as it sounds," he added, before plopping down onto the bed.

 

Noticing the time, Alex's brows furrowed. Had it really been that long? He knew Dante must be tired, between their daytime preparations, the hike up, then boarding the cabin up, not to mention the fight and their speedy trek down the mountain. A moment later and he wondered when Dante had last eaten, knowing he couldn't heal or recover if he was half starved. Alex himself could probably go for some blood, though right then he was craving something warm and human, though he normally had to make a choice between warm animal blood or cold human blood.

 

"Did you want me to pick anything up before the sun comes up?" Alex asked, knowing he'd have a narrow window of time between his clothes drying and the sun peeking over the horizon. "After the clothes dry, obviously," he added.

 

He was also hoping to check both of their things over for rips and tears while Dante slept, since his skill with performing minor medical procedures carried over decently when it came to stretching the longevity of their clothes and equipment. That and he was also planning on cataloging the events of the evening in one of his journals. It was an odd hobby when he really thought about it, but if anything happened to either of them, Alex wanted to leave behind something, even if it was just knowledge. If something did happen to them, Alex knew the fight would never be over, there would always be monsters and people who hunted them.

 

Once Dante was in bed and presumably asleep, Alex went over to look over their equipment. Everything was cleaned and organized, there also didn't appear to be any damage to any of it. Walking over to where he stowed his old satchel under the bed, Alex crouched down and opened it. Inside he had a basic sewing kit, basic as in a long spool of black thread and a set of needles for different types of fabric. There was also a set of suture needles, though those he wouldn't need right then. Alongside that was his beaten, leatherbound journal as well as his contact case for when he didn't want to startle random humans and an archaic Nokia phone that had only a few minutes left on it.

 

Taking his sewing kit and journal out, Alex took a seat at the table before chronicling the events that had transpired. It took about two hours, as Alex didn't want to miss any details. As time passed, he checked on their clothes, finding any rips before settling down to mend the damage to hopefully get a few more weeks or months out of them. There was maybe an hour left of nighttime cover before Alex slipped on his slightly damp clothing to leave the room, confident Dante would be safe and able to rest. Walking to the door, Alex cast a glance over his shoulder at Dante's sleeping form. He wasn't planning on being long, it would take him minutes to reach a nearby convenience store, grab what he needed, and make it back.

 

~

 

_"The only thing worse than rotting meat is werewolf...I can't believe I bit it too, the taste is as bad as it sounds."_

 

“You bit it?” Dante grinned, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. He must have missed that part. “I know you’re hungry but damn. Surely you can find a better snack than that...”

 

He chuckled quietly to himself as he finished the busy work around the room, mostly disposing of soiled rags and packing away cleaning materials. He was altogether too distracted by the sight of Alex shirtless on the bed, drops of moisture running down his skin.

 

Goddammit Alex. Put some clothes on...

 

Of course their sparse extra clothing was in the Jeep, and what they had been wearing wouldn’t be dry for some time, so that was a useless prayer.

 

Opening up their battered first aid kit, he rummaged for a bottle of combat wound-seal, a super glue like substance used primarily by the military. The tube was depressingly empty, but he managed to squeeze enough out to swatch the wound on his palm. He ground his teeth irritably as it did its work and dried quickly. It stung like a son of a bitch, but there was no way he was going to try to get any rest while the cut was still bleeding freely. All that meant was he’d probably get blood everywhere and have to spend time in the morning cleaning and scrubbing. In any case, he really didn’t want to subject Alex to the scent of human blood while he was undoubtedly hungry.

 

Absently wiping stray drops of crimson away with his opposite thumb, Dante thought again about Alex. He wondered if the vampire needed to feed, and if so, if he would set out on his own to hunt for blood, or if he would ask Dante. The times he had were few and far between. Not like the human didn’t offer. It was usually when the situation was especially dire, or the vampire injured beyond the superficial.

 

He thought back on the first time, his skin prickling at the memory. He recalled being terrified that he was going to lose the vampire, and maybe the threat of imminent loss did the trick but the full weight of his need for Alex had finally hit him like a ton of bricks. There was no way he could carry on without him. It was like his mind stalled, stuttered to a full stop at the very idea. It didn’t matter if he could make it on his own. There wasn’t a drop of blood in his body that wanted to. That their relationship had reached a critical level of codependency didn’t matter to him.

 

He’d offered the one thing he knew the vampire would never ask him for. Himself. His blood.

 

The experience that followed had been terrifying, euphoric, and even erotic in a way the human desperately avoided thinking about... and Dante had finally understood with full clarity the effect vampires had on their victims, the terror and allure.

 

In the end, it had saved Alex’s life, and Dante realized that there was finally something truly useful be could offer his partner. For all the strain and stress he put on the vampire, the countless times he had needed his ass pulled out of a jam... this was finally something he could do to repay him.

 

Alex had made it abundantly clear that while grateful, it was a one time thing. And it was... until the next time. And the next. All told Dante had allowed the vampire to feed from him maybe a half-dozen times or less and he didn’t regret a single one. Maybe in the darkest parts of his soul he even craved it. He took a secret, guilty pleasure in the idea that this powerful creature, so much stronger than him, needed anything that he could provide.

 

Choosing not to mull over the unhealthy dynamics of their strange relationship any longer, Dante found himself startled from his reverie by the vampire’s smooth voice.

 

_"Did you want me to pick anything up before the sun comes up? After the clothes dry, obviously."_

 

Dante knew what was only implied: the vampire was going out to feed, and felt something a little like ugly jealousy curl cold in his stomach. He was being ridiculous he knew, and ruthlessly quashed the feeling down.

 

“No,” he cleared his throat, and shook his head. “I’ll find somewhere to grab breakfast in the morning. Everything else is probably gonna be a team effort. We’ve got a lot to restock.”

 

With that Dante retreated to the bathroom, struggling with his own conscience. He should have told Alex to be safe if he left, to watch his back. He lived in mortal fear of the idea that one day he might wake up and Alex would simply be gone, vanishing out of his life like he has never been there. If Dante feared anything, he was terrified of that.

 

Careful avoiding the hanging clothes still drying on the shower curtain rack, Dante stepped under the water and turned it as cold as he could possibly stand it. He shivered, but knew it would keep him alert and the shower brief. He was out in a matter of minutes, boxers back on and furiously drying his hair with the remaining clean towel.

 

When he re-emerged, Dante flopped heavily onto the bed face-down, letting out a heavy sigh of relief as his sore muscles finally had a chance to relax. The mattress wasn’t exactly comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but it no longer mattered. He was beat. His mind was still churning, cataloging the work he still had to do on the car. Scrub the seats, or he could be lazy and throw tarps down for them to sit on. The jackets now hanging over chairs in the kitchenette needed to be mended, various rips and tears leaving them looking especially pathetic after their messy fight. The steam engine of his brain was slowing down though, and the human knew sleep would follow not long after.

 

Prying one eye open as he turned just enough to see his partner, Dante watched him for a moment. “Hey. Be careful.” His tone was uncharacteristically serious. “Buffet’s always open if you don’t wanna go out.” Despite his joking words, Dante made it clear he was serious. “I know you’re gonna say no, but still. Open offer. Just make sure you wake me up when you get back.”

 

~

 

“You bit it?” ... “I know you’re hungry but damn. Surely you can find a better snack than that...”

 

“Only after it tried to bite my face off,” Alex replied, knowing he’d heal from a grievous wound like that, though it likely would have turned the tide of the fight in the wolf’s favor. “It happened in the cabin while I was trying to restrain it...not my proudest moment I’ll admit, but my hands were preoccupied.”

 

Unaware of any discomfort he might be causing Dante, Alex rested back on his elbows, lazily looking up at the ugly, dated popcorn ceiling of the motel room. In hindsight, they probably could have brought their clothing in earlier, but Alex had been concerned about bed bugs or lice getting into their spare clothes. Not that those things would bother him necessarily, but he wasn’t keen on letting anything suck Dante’s blood if he could help it. Even when they had come in, Alex had checked the room to be sure if was bug free.

 

Opening up their battered first aid kit, he rummaged for a bottle of combat wound-seal, a super glue like substance used primarily by the military. The tube was depressingly empty, but he managed to squeeze enough out to swatch the wound on his palm. He ground his teeth irritably as it did its work and dried quickly. It stung like a son of a bitch, but there was no way he was going to try to get any rest while the cut was still bleeding freely. All that meant was he’d probably get blood everywhere and have to spend time in the morning cleaning and scrubbing. In any case, he really didn’t want to subject Alex to the scent of human blood while he was undoubtedly hungry.

 

Watching Dante work on his hand, Alex wanted to offer to help, but doubted he wanted Dante’s blood so close to him when he was hungry. Any strength he’d had from blood bags prior to the fight had worn off and whether he liked it or not he needed to feed before the day was up. It wasn’t as if Alex were repulsed by Dante’s blood or anything like that. Rather, the issue was he didn’t want to impose, even when Dante offered it made Alex feel like a burden. That and feeding from another was viewed somewhat sexually by every vampire Alex had ever met. Attacking and feeding from something or someone was one thing, but to sit down and go through the motions with a willing participant meant something else.

 

Over the course of their partnership, Alex had told Dante about how vampires viewed these things. He of course also mentioned how his sire tried to force a bond with him via forced mutual feeding. It hadn’t been pleasant to remember and to top it all off, Alex didn’t want to drive Dante away by giving him the wrong idea. When things got bad, exceptions were made, each time Alex insisted it would be the last, only for him to eventually need Dante’s blood again. The thought of enjoying it, the thought of doing it frequently, was pleasant, but it wasn’t worth ruining their partnership.

 

Still, the memory was nice, much nicer than being held down while a bigger, stronger, and ancient vampire forced a wrist of cold blood against Alex’s lips. With Dante it had been warm and safe feeling, a stark contrast. Despite Alex being the stronger of the two, something about Dante made him feel safe and secure, almost like being tethered to something to keep him from drifting away. To make matters worse, Alex had found he liked the taste and smell of Dante’s blood and he didn’t want to develop another source of borderline addiction stemming from his partner.

 

_“No,” ... “I’ll find somewhere to grab breakfast in the morning. Everything else is probably gonna be a team effort. We’ve got a lot to restock.”_

 

“You sure?” Alex asked, knowing Dante being as stubborn as he was rarely changed his mind once it was made up. “If you change your mind let me know,” he tacked on, just in case Dante had second thoughts.

 

With Dante in the bathroom showering, Alex fell further back against the cheap, scratchy pillow. He didn’t really need sleep, at least not right then. Technically speaking vampires could sleep, it was just generally not needed as much and when they did it was usually during daytime. Waiting silently, Alex looked up when Dante came out and fell face first against the mattress. Alex made a mental note that Dante looked like he could use some rest and maybe letting him sleep longer than usual would help.

 

“Hey. Be careful.” His tone was uncharacteristically serious. “Buffet’s always open if you don’t wanna go out.” Despite his joking words, Dante made it clear he was serious. “I know you’re gonna say no, but still. Open offer. Just make sure you wake me up when you get back.”

 

“...I know,” Alex replied, keeping his expression neutral, though if he were capable of it he might have blushed from the offer. Silently, he reminded himself Dante was just trying to help and he shouldn’t think too much beyond that. “I’ll be sure to wake you, whether I do it immediately after returning or after you’ve actually rested is debatable.”

 

With the tasks he’d set for himself complete, and Dante sound asleep, Alex left the motel room. He double checked the door was locked securely behind him before walking out of range of any lights or cameras. At the edge of the lot he took off, jumping into a nearby tree before entering a wooded area that separated the motel from a strip mall and convenience store on the other side of it. As he moved through the trees, he listened for signs of life below. The chirps of birds and chattering of rodents was clear and ever present, but that was all he could find in the small patch of tamed forest.

 

Knowing he was wasting valuable night time, Alex continued on before eventually ending up outside of the store he’d noticed on their way into town. It was a 24 hour kind of place, so nothing was odd about him walking in at this hour. Heading inside, he scanned the few patrons as well as the only cashier on duty. None of them stood out as a potential meal, though Alex had no desire to go for human blood. Besides, he hadn’t come here for food for himself.

 

Wandering the aisles, Alex ‘accidentally’ bumped into another shopping, his hand slipping into the man’s pocket so quickly there was no way he could have been caught. Was it wrong? Maybe, but it wasn’t like he was stealing identities, just whatever pocket change or cash they might be carrying most of the time. If it was way too much, say for example someone was carrying their rent money around, Alex would usually return it under the guise of a Good Samaritan who had picked up a lost wallet. If it was just twenty bucks or less he had no issue pocketing it and leaving the wallet somewhere to be found. All things considered, a bit of pickpocketing and petty theft was the least terrible of the things he’d done.

 

Perusing through the store, Alex discreetly checked how much he’d managed to snag. So far he had a pack of gum, a half-full pack of cigarettes, and around $40 in mixed bills. It wasn’t too bad, definitely enough to help with gas and while the cigarettes weren’t Dante’s preferred brand, they were something. Satisfied, and deciding he’d have to settle on birds and squirrels, Alex set out towards the tree line again.

 

Just before he could disappear into the forest, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. It took a moment for him to notice, but the natural chatter of the forest was absent. A rush of panic overcame Alex, who for once was glad Dante wasn’t with him. Something felt off and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He inhaled deeply, breathing in the night air to try to figure out what was out there. The few times he’d seen any forest go silent was when something terrifying and lethal was stalking around.

 

Moving so his back was against a tree, Alex scanned the area around him again, reaching for his daggers, only to realize he’d left them back in the motel room with Dante. He’d only planned on being out for less than a half hour and in a rural town, so he hadn’t anticipated needing to fend off anything more than deranged hillbillies. Not immediately picking up what had him suddenly so paranoid, Alex wanted to run back to the motel, but didn’t want to potentially lead a dangerous predator to Dante. Then again, for all he knew it was nothing, just old paranoia flaring up again.

 

~

 

When Dante did manage to sleep, it was the sleep of the dead. Nightmares were the stuff of waking hours in his line of work. The monsters he faced almost daily could be defeated with weapons and relics. There was no room for them in his dreams. Instead, when he dreamed, which was rare, it was almost always of his father. Lately his dreams had been of Alex, a welcome replacement.

 

Something woke him before dawn, and he scrambled into a sitting position with the blankets twisted around his legs. His senses were awake before his exhausted body, his ears straining for a sound he couldn’t identify. It was still dark and Alex was still gone. Through the drawn blinds of the single window the human could see only the wavering shadows of tree branches, illuminated by the cold blue light from the parking lot and the glow of a full moon. Stock-still, he listened.

 

Nothing.

 

Rising quietly to his feet, he padded across the room and pulled his silver blade from its sheath and then moved to the door. He pressed his back to the wall, ear turned towards the door.

 

He couldn’t hear a single whisper of sound, but he’d survived this long by trusting his gut and he wasn’t about to discount it now. Something had woken him, and it wasn’t a car door or stray cat. Alex’s presence was like an extension of his own, so accepted by his mind and body that he could sleep straight through his partner’s comings and goings. No, he wouldn’t have woken up for anything less than danger.

 

He could feel his heart pounding against his ribs as the gears in his head started turning full-speed. Where was Alex? He had no idea if the vampire had left ten minutes or two hours ago. Had something happened to him? What would possibly be coming for them here, in the middle of nowhere? How had they found them?

 

Dante wasn’t sure how long he remained there, the bare skin of his back absorbing the chill of the wall behind him. Absolutely motionless, he measured every breath with a practiced calm he didn’t feel. There was no indication of movement or sound from outside but his palm was slick with sweat and he eventually forced himself to relax his death grip on his long, thin knife. He held it indexed against his arm, blade-side out.

 

Dante waited until his racing heartbeat slowed down, ensuring he could think and act clearly if it came to that. The hair on the back of his neck was standing up, the air humming with a charged energy. His body was picking up on something his mind was not and he trusted that sixth sense almost as much as he trusted Alex.

 

Reaching down, Dante’s palm closed around the door handle. He turned it slowly, careful not to make a noise. He forced out a long breath through his nose, and pulled the door open.

 

The wooden panel creaked once as it swung inwards, and still Dante could only hear the soft rush of wind in the dancing trees. No gunshots, no growls or screams. Absolute silence.

 

Cautiously Dante angled his body to look over his shoulder, feeling a sense of dejavu from their earlier hunt. His eyes searched the parking lot furtively, desperately seeking anything out of the ordinary. The Jeep was parked close to the door, looking thoroughly the worse for wear and definitely leaning to the right slightly. The lot was otherwise empty, lit brightly by the moon and streetlights.

 

Dante slowly shifted until he was standing in the doorway, all but inviting any present enemies to take their shot at him. An owl hooted somewhere in the forest, but otherwise the night flowed on around him undisturbed. The goosebumps on his arms were slowly fading, his heartbeat slowing down.

 

Whatever had been here... it was now gone.

 

The human felt a shiver of dread run through him, and he couldn’t entirely contribute it to the cold. There were so many questions, and no answers to be found.

 

The hunter stood like a statue in the doorway for several minutes longer, making absolutely certain that he was right. All he gained for his trouble was numb toes and fingers in the cold.

 

Reluctantly, the human retreated back into the room, shutting the door behind him with a click.

 

Dante looked towards the blinking microwave. Almost 5 AM. He walked across the room to check his phone next, and unsurprising found no messages from Alex.... If the vampire had even remembered to take his phone.

 

Sighing, the human sat down on the edge of the bed, elbows propped on his knees, and dropped his throbbing head into one cold hand. He still held his knife in a death grip and didn’t plan on putting it down anytime soon.

 

His aching body was beyond exhaustion, and he knew he was definitely going to be a grumpy asshole through the long day that loomed ahead. The only thing he knew for sure was he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep tonight.

 

Eyes closed and ears tuned to the door, the hunter waited for his partner to return.

 

~

 

Alex was terrified. It was an extremely uncommon occurrence. The only things he really feared these days was anything happening to Dante or his sire reemerging. The fact that he was petrified with such intense fear all of a sudden left him certain something horrible was going to happen, but he didn’t know what, when, where, or who would be behind it.

 

Frozen in place, Alex suddenly remembered just how vulnerable Dante could be, especially in his current state. Suddenly, it was as if some kind of trance broke. The distant sound of an owl startled him, following shortly after the forest seemed t come to life again. It didn’t matter though, Alex was off, racing through the forest until he reached the other side and skidded to a halt in the parking lot. Looking ahead, he saw the Jeep, it appeared undisturbed. His gaze moved and settled on the door to the motel room.

 

Half a second passed as Alex was at the door, trying to unlock it, praying silently that when he opened it Dante would be sound asleep and safe. Nightmarish images played through his mind of what he might find on the other side of the door. Finally, getting it open with the extra keycard, Alex pushed the door open, red eyes settling on the sight of Dante. Dante who was sitting on the edge of the bed, not looking as well rested as Alex had hoped, and holding his knife. The vampire let the door slam shut behind him, expecting the lock would engage as soon as it did.

 

“Dante,” Alex said, softly as he crossed the distance between them and appearing in front of Dante as if the space between them hadn’t existed. “Did something happen?”

 

Normally Alex had an easy time keeping his face blank, betraying very little of his thoughts to the world and keeping his inner turmoil inside. Dante had gotten better at picking up in the subtle movements in his face though and that had made it all the more difficult to keep his thoughts and feelings as private as he was used to having them. Right now though, Alex’s eyes were wide and if possible he seemed paler than he usually was. As you can imagine, a vampire looking paler than usual wasn’t a good sign.

 

As much as Alex wanted the warmth and comfort touching Dante would provide, he restrained himself. Instead he went to arm himself, the paranoia still strong. Moments ago he’d feared he’d come in to see... Well, he wasn’t sure, but all the possibilities involved Dante hurt or worse. Seeing him alive and well, though tired and probably hungry, put Alex a little bit at ease.

 

With Alex’s daggers holstered around his hips, he went to his satchel, picking it up, knowing his phone and only way to contact Dante while they were apart was inside. He’d been stupid to leave it, he’d realized. Something could have happened and he would have been none the wiser. Examining the rest of the arsenal, Alex realized how ill-prepared he was to protect his human partner from all the things that wanted them both dead. Slinging his satchel over his shoulder, Alex looked around the room, searching for anything out of place. What if someone had been in there while Dante slept?

 

“Is anything out of place?” Alex asked, coming over to sit on the other side of the bed. Setting his satchel down, he flipped open the canvas flap and shuffled through it. “...You felt it too, didn’t you?” He questioned, red meeting grey as he felt a little more of his panic fade.

 

~

 

Alex’s reappearance made Dante weak with relief. The anxiety building up in his limbs relaxed by a fraction, leaving him lightheaded. Thank god. Alex was here, safe and alive. Well, his version of alive.

 

_“Dante, did something happen?”_

 

Dante found that he couldn’t actually speak. He shook his head mutely, looking up at his partner. What he saw sent a cold chill of fear straight down his spine.

 

Alex was terrified.

 

Dante felt sick. He’d never seen that look on the vampire’s face, and immediately decided that he never wanted to see it again. Instinctively, Dante reached out to touch the vampire, but was met with only air as Alex buzzed away to collect his weapons a breath before Dante’s fingers touched him.

 

Dante felt hopelessly cold, reeling. What could possibly have shaken Alex like that?

 

_“Is anything out of place? You felt it too, didn’t you?”_

 

Dante watched blankly as Alex shuffled through his satchel. Anyone else would have missed the frenzied note of panic to his motions, the tension in the vampire’s shoulders. Dante saw it all, and it did nothing for his mounting fear.

 

“Yeah,” Dante answered, his voice hoarse. “I did. Something was here.”

 

He rubbed at his burning eyes hard, overcome by nerves as much as sleep-deprivation. “I don’t think it got into the room. But someone, or something, was definitely outside. I checked and it was gone.”

 

The hunter stood, forcing himself to act despite how thoroughly shaken he felt. “I’ll get dressed. We need to leave, now.”

 

The decision was a no-brainer. They might have made it through undetected, whether by luck or design, but they were essentially sitting ducks trapped in that motel. Whatever it was that had appeared to stalk them was unlikely to let them rest for long. Their only recourse against an enemy they couldn’t see was to run.

 

Dante dressed quickly and mechanically in his still-damp clothes, hating how shaky and unbalanced he felt. It had nothing to do with the lack of sleep this time. Instead it was the haunted look on Alex’s face, the knowledge that the vampire was more rattled than he was by whatever he had sensed out there. It was equally terrifying that this thing, or person, or multiple of either... hadn’t actually revealed itself to either of them.

 

Reappearing in the dark bedroom, Dante silently helped the vampire gather their gear. Thankfully they’d only brought in the necessities, so it was quick work. Slipping into boots he didn’t bother to lace up, he dropped their key cards on the counter and did another quick once-over of the dark space around them. He knew they hadn’t forgotten anything. This wasn’t their first rodeo. Still, with as flustered as they both were it didn’t hurt to be careful.

 

Knowing Alex would alert him if there was danger nearby, Dante helped load the hard plastic pelican cases containing most of their gear into the trunk. He quickly tossed plastic tarps across both front seats and waited for his partner to join him before jumping in and starting the engine. The broken driver’s side window left him feeling unusually exposed, and it took a great strength of will to pull out of the parking lot slowly and deliberately. Every nerve in his body demanded that he push the gas pedal to the floorboard and drive like a bat out of hell.

 

The hunter let out an uneven breath as they hit the asphalt, the car creaking and groaning around them in pained protest. They drove for several minutes before the human found his voice.

 

“Alex...” Dante finally breathed, “what the hell was that?”

 

~

 

“Yeah,”... “I did. Something was here.” ... “I don’t think it got into the room. But someone, or something, was definitely outside. I checked and it was gone.”

 

Alex was glad to find all of his things accounted for, his journal in particular. In his account of their most recent hunt he had mentioned where they were going and even included lists of places they’d need to visit in New York as well as a the supplied they’d need. The silver lining was knowing whatever had been stalking them hadn’t made it inside, though whether that was because it...they...or whatever decided not to or couldn’t wasn’t certain. Alex’s mind reels thinking of all the enemies they had, human, vampire, and creature alike.

 

“If it didn’t have a key card then the only option would have been the window,” Alex said, crossing over to it to see if it was latched shut, though if it had been vampires they would have needed an invitation inside regardless. When Alex looked at the latch, he realized that it was faulty, or rather, missing entirely. The very idea of anything getting inside, so close to Dante while he slept... Alex wasn’t sure if he was more afraid or angry right then.

 

_“I’ll get dressed. We need to leave, now.”_

 

Thinking over all scenarios, Alex was pretty sure whatever was stalking them was biding its time, or collecting information, though for what reason he couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t even sure if he should be grateful or not that they were given time to act, to run. All of that aside, Alex doubted who or whatever it was had any good intentions for them. Still, Alex had sensed power and malice behind whatever it was, not to mention he hadn’t picked up a scent, or anything to pin down the location of whatever it was.

 

Together it only took them minutes to pack up all their belongings. Bringing everything outside to load up, Alex listened intently for anything that might sound off. Thankfully, things seemed peaceful, normal for an early morning in a small town in Maine. He watched as Dante set the tarp out over the still bloody and glass covered seats, then approached and climbed in quickly.

 

“I can drive, if you want?” Alex offered, even as Dante started to drive. He knew Dante was probably still exhausted and the sun was still down for a few more hours. “You’re going to need food, but after we’ve put some distance between us and this place.” Pausing, Alex realized he still hadn’t fed and they were both running themselves ragged. For a brief moment, Alex wondered if that was it, if whoever had been stalking them was grinding them down to make whatever they were going to do easier. “I...didn’t have a chance to feed, I did manage to scrounge up $40, some gum and...” digging in his pocket, Alex held up the pack of cigarettes he’d also swiped. “Whatever it was had manage to scare the local wildlife too.”

 

_“Alex...” ... “what the hell was that?”_

 

“To be completely honest, I don’t know, I don’t even think I’ve ever encountered anything like that before,” Alex admitted. “There was this sudden feeling of dread, and everything in the forest went quiet, as if everything, even the crickets, were afraid. ...I couldn’t move at first, for a second I thought the remnants of my coven caught up to us, but I couldn’t catch a scent. It could be anything, but it’s dangerous and If I were to take a guess it doesn’t like us.”

 

Going quiet again, Alex almost wanted to mention how the sheer idea of Dante being endangered had helped propel Alex back to him. Of course, he doesn’t, not wanting to potentially make things awkward between them. Instead, he reaches over and fiddles with the dial, settling on some classic rock station, nothing crazy, just something mellow he could zone out to while they drove.

 

~

 

Dante shook his head when his partner offered to drive, needing something mundane for his racing mind to focus on for at least a little while. Driving calmed him; it was familiar and soothing.

 

He knew logically he probably wouldn’t be able to keep going for long. There had been too much happening in too short a time and it would catch up to him fast. He would need to hand over the wheel before long, but he could run on fumes for as long as possible until that time came.

 

_“You’re going to need food, but after we’ve put some distance between us and this place.”_

 

Dante’s stomach was churning and although he’d been starving the night before, he didn’t know if he could actually eat now. Not for the first time, he silently cursed Alex’s attention to detail and preoccupation with Dante’s eating habits. He’d never eaten as regularly as he did now, with the vampire hovering over his shoulder reminding him every time he missed a meal. Dante had never known his own mother, but he was fairly certain Alex would have given her a run for her money.

 

“We’ll stop after we cross state line,” he conceded, keeping the promise intentionally vague. “I’m not hungry yet anyways.” They weren’t far from the New Hampshire border, but he felt a desperate need to put some road between themselves and whatever it was that might be following. The idea of stopping anytime soon set his teeth on edge.

 

With slightly steadier fingers, Dante reached into his damp jacket for his carton of smokes. Thankfully the box was still dry, but on the other hand... he was down to his last cigarette. Because that was the kind of day he was having, apparently.

 

“Sorry about the smell...” he mumbled apologetically in advance. “But fuck, I need a smoke.”

 

If it took him a couple of tries to light up, Alex had the grace not to mention it. The hunter planned to blame it on the wind, anyways. Thankfully the nicotine had the desired effect, and after a few long drags Dante felt a little more like himself again.

 

_“I...didn’t have a chance to feed, I did manage to scrounge up $40, some gum and... Whatever it was had manage to scare the local wildlife too.”_

 

Although he should have been more excited to see the gas money, Dante had the illogical urge to cry with relief when he saw the pack of cigarettes Alex produced out of nowhere. So maybe his luck wasn’t all bad.

 

“Goddamn I love you,” he grinned his thanks, the phrase slipping out thoughtlessly as it had a hundred times before. He tried not to think too hard about it as he took the box from his partner gratefully, tossing his own now-empty cardboard into the backseat.

 

He was definitely concerned that Alex hadn’t had a chance to feed. They were playing a dangerous game pushing on like this, exhausted and drained and hungry. Of course he could probably survive longer without human food than Alex could without blood... not that it would kill him, but a thirsty vampire was a dangerous thing.

 

His mind raced for a way to fix this new problem, but he was coming up blank. He might be able to convince his partner to feed, but not if Dante hadn’t eaten himself. So regardless of his body’s protests he would need to force down some food eventually. Maybe some Gatorade too.

 

“To be completely honest, I don’t know, I don’t even think I’ve ever encountered anything like that before. There was this sudden feeling of dread, and everything in the forest went quiet, as if everything, even the crickets, were afraid. ...I couldn’t move at first, for a second I thought the remnants of my coven caught up to us, but I couldn’t catch a scent. It could be anything, but it’s dangerous and If I were to take a guess it doesn’t like us.”

 

Dante listened to Alex describe his experience in the forest, feeling the same sense of dread creep over him as he had earlier at the motel. “How can we not know?” He wondered out loud, brows furrowing in thought as he puffed through his cigarette. “How could something catch up to us... nobody even knew where we were.” The question was troubling. It wasn’t as if old enemies hadn’t come for them before. The difference was that in the past, they’d known who and what they were up against.

 

Lost in his head, the hunter didn’t even realize the radio hadn’t been on until Alex flipped the dial and Hotel California came drifting through the speakers. His lips twitched into a smile, grateful not for the first time to have a partner like Alex.

 

They drove until the sky turned light and Dante felt himself slipping dangerously close to the knife’s edge of fatigue, the Jeep’s wheels sliding closer and closer to the center yellow line before he remembered to correct the wheel. Eventually he knew he was going to have to admit defeat. He started looking for a gas station, and eventually found a mom and pop shop off the highway. The axles creaked dangerously as he pulled in, putting the car in park with a sigh.

 

“Your turn,” he admitted defeat tiredly. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to sleep yet, but at the very least he wouldn’t be in any danger of steering them into a ditch. “I think I’m done for. “

 

He pumped gas on autopilot, opting to use a pilfered credit card taken off a vampire they’d hunted down the previous week and save their cash for emergencies. It was usually a couple of weeks before the commandeered cards were canceled, but he was still relieved when it worked. Another small stroke of luck, and every single one seemed like a miracle.

 

Next he went inside, gathering an unappetizing packaged sandwich and a couple of bottles of water and sports drink. This time he paid with a ten-dollar bill. Gas stations had cameras inside, but usually few at the pumps. No need to have cops on their trail on top of everything else.

 

Upon returning to the vehicle he wordlessly handed his partner a pair of dark sunglasses. It was risky asking the vampire to drive during the day, but the sun was rising behind them and they had thick cloud cover for the time being. If it got too bright, he knew Alex would pull off and find a place they could hole up for a while.

 

“You need to feed,” Dante stated the obvious, forcing himself to take a bite of his sandwich. It tasted like sawdust in his mouth. “What are you gonna do?”

 

~

 

_“We’ll stop after we cross state line,” ... “I’m not hungry yet anyways.”_

 

Like many things, Alex had a skewed idea of how much humans were supposed to eat. It had been 93 years since he’d last needed to eat, though once in a while he’d still do it just for the taste. Still, he’d lived in a time in which the food pyramid didn’t exist, most food was prepared from scratch, and people just didn’t eat junk food all the time for the fun of it. Over time, he’d also noticed the average waistline was swelling, though Dante seemed to have the opposite problem.

 

“...Okay,” Alex said, acknowledging what Dante had said, while also indicating he wasn’t going to forget by the time they entered another state. He almost wanted to point out how low Dante’s blood sugar levels probably were, but he knew now wasn’t the time, especially after what had just happened.

 

Really though, Alex couldn’t help but worry it wouldn’t be monsters and things that went bump in the night that would be the end of his partner.

 

_“Sorry about the smell...” ... “But fuck, I need a smoke.”_

 

When Dante lit up his last cigarette, Alex almost wanted to tell him he didn’t mind the smell. It reminded him of Dante and he’d come to form a strong association between the two things. He made no comment as his partner tried multiple times to light it, noting how shaky his hands seemed. Rather than reassure Dante the smell didn’t bother him, Alex took this golden opportunity to remind his partner that cigarettes were bad for him as if he didn’t already know.

 

_“Goddamn I love you,”_

 

“That can kill you, you know,” Alex said as Dante accepted the box of cigarettes he’d pocketed from someone else’s pockets. Of course, he meant the cigarettes, not loving him, though he guessed either would be enough to land someone six feet under. Briefly, he mused about how frequently everyone smoked in his own time, but then he’d also lived in an era that put cocaine in soft drinks and probably wasn’t one to talk all things considered.

 

_“How can we not know?” ... “How could something catch up to us... nobody even knew where we were.”_

 

Silently, Alex thought of the one being in the known world who could track and find him, no matter how far he ran. As much as the facts implied his sire had all but disappeared from the face of the earth, Alex knew with every fiber of his being that the evil creature had to still be lurking in the shadows. A true mutual blood bond hadn’t been formed, otherwise, Alex wouldn’t be here with Dante. That being said, Alex was absolutely certain if his sire had died he’d have felt it and he wasn’t even sure if the weak bond worked the same both ways.

 

“I can think of one person who could find me anywhere, but I would have sensed him too...” I think, Alex thought the last bit to himself. “...Can cell phones be tracked?” He asked, not being all that great with technology and having no idea how anyone else could have found them.

 

_“Your turn,” ... “I think I’m done for. “_

 

Alex watched the road, noticing how Dante seemed to swerve just a little at times. Before Alex could insist on switching spots, Dante pulled over at a gas station. The sun was going to come up soon, Alex also realized as the sky was slowly becoming a lighter blue. While Dante got gas, Alex was digging around in the back, first grabbing a few sheets of something to stick on the windows for when the sun finally did come up. He wasn’t keen on the idea of burning half of his face off during the day time.

 

By the time Dante returned, the front, passenger and driver’s side windows were covered by one of the screens, effectively blocking any UV light from entering the interior of the Jeep. There were plenty of clouds, and the sun was coming up from behind, but fewer chances of exposure were better. Alex had also taken to busying himself tossing any garbage they’d accumulated and reorganizing things in the back a bit. Mostly it was to make sure Dante would have enough room to recline his seat if he decided to try to get some sleep.

 

Without saying anything, Alex accepted the sunglasses and slid them onto his face. He could still see clearly, but he wouldn’t go half blind from how light it was during the day. He had no intention of stopping until he absolutely had to though, or at least until Dante had more time to rest.

 

_“You need to feed,” ... “What are you gonna do?”_

 

“I need to feed as much as you need to eat and sleep,” Alex acknowledged, casting a glance over at Dante, taking his eyes off of the road for a split second. He was glad Dante was eating something, but a little put off that they had let it get this bad. “I’ll figure something out. ...I was also wondering...maybe this is what whatever that was back there wants, getting us to run ourselves into the ground I mean.”

 

~

 

_“That can kill you, you know,”_

 

“You don’t say,” Dante didn’t have the energy to inject his voice with his usual sarcasm, “huh. I guess it’s a good thing it’s the only thing in my life that might kill me.” Some days, he really wished that were true.

 

_“I can think of one person who could find me anywhere, but I would have sensed him too...Can cell phones be tracked?”_

 

Dante’s eyes narrowed, fixed on the road even as his mind conjured up mental screenshots of his thick journal, the dark leather one with overstuffed exploding pages and creased spine. He’d cataloged every scrap of information Alex had ever told him about his sire, for a variety of complex reasons. On the one hand he was filled with a deep hatred for the creature that had caused his partner so much misery. At the same time, it seemed a fateful inevitability that one day the powerful vampire would rise to hunt them. If Alex didn’t take the initiative to hunt him first, of course. Dante was determined to be prepared in either scenario, but this didn’t feel like he was prepared. It felt like they’d had nowhere near enough time, and they had no plan and no equipment and no clues to go on. It felt like it was way too soon.

 

“Yeah,” he answered slowly as he filed that topic away for further examination later, frustrated that he couldn’t immediately formulate a solution. “They can. Imprecisely, it’s based off of triangulation when the signals ping off local cell towers... they could narrow it down to a couple mile radius. Out here though, there aren’t as many cell towers. They’d be lucky to get it within fifty miles. That’s not what worries me...” he knew for a fact it would be nearly impossible to follow their phones. They traded out tracphones at truck stops and convenience stores every couple weeks, never keeping the same number for long. It was one of the many precautions Dante took that bordered on paranoia, but that was why he was still breathing.

 

“Only the cell service provider can track a phone... usually requires a warrant before they’ll give up that information. Just leaves us with more questions if that’s the case.” He made a mental note to ditch their phones at their next stop, knowing it was probably unnecessary but they really couldn’t be too careful. Between his own unsettling experience that morning and the way Alex had reacted, no measure seemed too extreme.

 

These thoughts continued to spin through his mind as they conducted their business at the gas station, as Dante watched his partner perform their version of sun-proofing the vehicle, as he stared down at his disgusting cold sandwich. He was frustrated that he couldn’t formulate anything concrete. He was usually more composed, able to systematically sort and discard information to come to the best solution rapidly. This was a different monster, and after years of feeling confident in his own mental acuity he felt strangely vulnerable, off-balance.

 

_“I need to feed as much as you need to eat and sleep...”_

 

“Yeah yeah, I get it,” Dante grimaced at the scolding. “You have a lot more important things to worry about than whether I get my five basic food groups...”

 

Even while complaining he forced down two more bites of that god-awful sandwich, enough to convince Alex he was actually eating before he couldn’t take anymore. Between the awful texture and his own scrambling nerves, it just wasn’t happening. He stuffed the food back into its package and wrapped it in a grocery sack, stuffing it behind his seat for later. The Gatorade was infinitely easier on his stomach, and he went through half a bottle quickly. He wasn’t about to forget about Alex’s far more pressing need, and wondered if the vampire really had a plan or was just trying to placate him

 

_“I’ll figure something out. ...I was also wondering...maybe this is what whatever that was back there wants, getting us to run ourselves into the ground I mean.”_

 

“You may be right. I can’t think of any other reason for showing up just to spook us,” Dante agreed with a heavy sigh, digging out the same journal he’d been mentally perusing for the last two hours. “Either whatever it was simply wasn’t capable of attacking us this morning, for whatever reason, but felt brave enough to let us know it was there... or it could have killed us and simply chose not to. Any way you look at it, we’re screwed. At least until we know for sure what we’re up against. We’re sitting ducks.”

 

Frustrated by his own assessment, Dante flipped open the soft leather in his hands. Unlike Alex, who immortalized the stories of their hunts in his own journal with painstaking detail, Dante’s journals were purely scientific. The one he held now was an exhaustive catalogue of every creature they’d ever encountered, and a few they’d only heard of. He flipped through it, knowing in his heart of hearts that his photographic memory hadn’t failed him, but as usual unwilling to completely trust himself either. He was able to discount most of the creatures listed within quickly. Many were primal beasts, driven on instinct and animal desire. They wouldn’t have the intelligence or ability to stalk their prey from afar over long distances, and certainly not without being detected themselves. That left the highly intelligent creatures they’d encountered: humans, vampires, shapeshifters, demons, and the like. Even most of those didn’t fit the bill. A thick section of pages near the end were dedicated to Alex’s sire and he eventually landed there. It said a lot that the man had his own section, separate from regular vampires.

 

“Are you sure you would have sensed him? Your sire,” Dante clarified, his head aching with frustration and weariness. “Is there any way he could have become stronger over the years, learned how to...” he waved one hand, at a loss for what to call it. “I don’t know, scare the piss out of us? How to mask his presence and scent maybe...”

 

Nothing really seemed to fit, regardless of what angle they looked at it from, and Dante didn’t like the looming fear that maybe there was something other out there. Some new threat, the likes of which they had never seen or even heard of. The hunter had been raised in the oldest religious organization in the world, inundated with centuries of history and documentation by a cult dedicated solely to the pursuit and perfection of the hunt. That there could possibly be some creature or entity overlooked by the priests of St. Andrews entirely was too great a leap in logic. It wasn’t possible. For all their many flaws, the priests stood on teaching and learning above all else. If something else existed, Dante would have learned about it. He was certain of that.

 

Even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was possible, that there was a great “maybe” hanging over his head like an ax. He couldn’t ignore that, however improbable.

 

In a matter of minutes Dante had his old canvas backpack in the front seat between his legs, two more journals and a fold-out map in his lap. He squinted through bleary eyes at the pages and lines. The religious tomes in old-world Latin he insisted on carting around with them were in a duffle bag in the trunk, out of his reach, so he would work with what he had for the moment. The hunter couldn’t rest until he had something, anything for them to go off of. He at least needed a lead. Just a trail to follow.

 

Despite his best intentions, the hunter was truly running on empty. His eyelids grew heavier, pulling him in to sleep against his will. He managed to resist for about an hour, jerking his chin upright every time he caught himself slipping and returning to his notes. It was a losing battle. Dante eventually nodded off with his head pressed against the UV screen on the passenger side and the cool glass behind it, lulled by the roar of tires on asphalt.

 

~

 

_“You don’t say,” ... “huh. I guess it’s a good thing it’s the only thing in my life that might kill me.”_

 

The most likely scenario was something would eventually kill Dante, or Alex, and that would be the end for both of them. The more plausible cause of death would be their luck running out finally and something, or someone, getting the better of them. It was kind of grim if he thought about it, that their days were numbered and hunters, in general, didn't live to be very old, especially ones cut off from networking with other hunters. Honestly, as morbid as it sounded, a small part of Alex wished Dante would live to be old enough for his bad habits to catch up with him.

 

The creature who had sired Alex was ancient, even by vampire standards. He was also cunning and resourceful, not to mention very likely held a deep grudge against Alex for the near extinction of his coven. That being said, Alex wasn't even sure what would happen when, as he was sure it was a matter of time, his sire managed to track him down again. Scenarios, all things worse than death, ran through his mind when he imagined his sire catching up to them. He'd told Dante everything he knew about the vampire known most commonly as Nikolai Stanislaus, though Alex wasn't even quite sure if that was the ancient vampire's true birth name, just the one he'd introduced himself to Alex with almost a hundred years ago.

 

_“Yeah,” ... “They can. Imprecisely, it’s based off of triangulation when the signals ping off local cell towers... they could narrow it down to a couple mile radius. Out here though, there aren’t as many cell towers. They’d be lucky to get it within fifty miles. That’s not what worries me...” ... “Only the cell service provider can track a phone... usually requires a warrant before they’ll give up that information. Just leaves us with more questions if that’s the case.”_

 

"...I guess that makes sense," the vampire said, in a tone implying he didn't really get how it worked but understood the gist of it. It seemed like someone tracking their phones was a long shot, an unlikelihood, but taking chances is what got people killed. "We don't know if someone has a guy on the inside," Alex added, knowing from personal experience cops, detectives, judges and the like could all be paid off. "It's unlikely that someone's tracking us that way, but we should still be cautious."

 

_“Yeah yeah, I get it,” ... “You have a lot more important things to worry about than whether I get my five basic food groups...”_

 

If Alex could he would have insisted on Dante eating better, but funds were low and making food well involved having a kitchen, which they didn't have. He also would have been insistent about Dante getting more sleep, but for the most part, he accepted that they didn't always have time and after an adrenaline rush sleep was hard to get. As stressful as things were right then, a small part of Alex hoped they'd be able to recharge in New York. Maybe that was what they needed, a city so chaotic and busy that they could hide in the crowd while preparing for their next excursion out of the city.

 

When Dante only ate some of the sandwich he'd bought, Alex glanced over. It was a start, he supposed, a small one and personally if he'd been mortal he wouldn't have wanted to eat that particular sandwich either. Dante drinking half of his Gatorade was a little more reassuring, though Alex was still waiting for the human to finally fall asleep. In truth, Alex had no idea what he'd do for blood. He'd either have to break into a hospital or he'd have to find more forest filled with bigger animals to hunt. The other option was asking Dante, but with how tired he was, Alex thought it would just endanger Dante's health, which he was already concerned about as it was.

 

_“You may be right. I can’t think of any other reason for showing up just to spook us,” ...“Either whatever it was simply wasn’t capable of attacking us this morning, for whatever reason, but felt brave enough to let us know it was there... or it could have killed us and simply chose not to. Any way you look at it, we’re screwed. At least until we know for sure what we’re up against. We’re sitting ducks.”_

 

"If someone is fine with going through the trouble to creep us out, then they have to be in a position of not having to worry about anything we could do in response." As far as Alex understood, it seemed like they were being taunted by something. "Meaning they wouldn't care if we ran off and got away...which makes me think they have some way of keeping tabs on us."

 

The majority of Alex's journals, if they were to fall into the wrong hands could easily be dismissed as fanciful stories, something akin to what a fantasy novelist might write. To a degree, they were informative in terms of how they planned things, what worked and why and all that stuff. When he'd glanced through Dante's journals they read more like an encyclopedia or a textbook. It wasn't a bad thing, they just had a different way of documenting the things they'd seen and experienced. What they'd felt earlier didn't match anything Alex had seen in Dante's journals, nor did it feel like anything he'd ever heard about.

 

_“Are you sure you would have sensed him? Your sire,” ... “Is there any way he could have become stronger over the years, learned how to...” ...“I don’t know, scare the piss out of us? How to mask his presence and scent maybe...”_

 

"I...don't really know." Alex admitted after a moment. Before, he had always been certain that if Nikolai were close he'd feel it as he always had, but for all he knew the ancient vampire could have learned a few tricks since then. Or maybe he was collaborating with someone else, after all, Alex and Dante had so many enemies it wouldn't be hard to find others who wanted them dead.

 

" 'Неважно, куда ты идешь или как далеко ты бежишь, я всегда найду тебя.' " Alex quoted, referring to the phase Nikolai always whispered into his ear after forcing a mouthful of blood down his throat. "No matter where you go or how far you run I will always find you," he translated, having mentioned all of this to Dante at one point or another. "Maybe he's shielding himself? I wouldn't know how he'd do something like that, but maybe the bond works differently from his end? I don't doubt he could have found a way to conceal himself, that could be how he's been off the radar for so long. He could also be working with someone, maybe a magic user? A demon?" At this point, Alex was throwing theories around.

 

Once upon a time, Alex had been a stupid boy caught up in stupid feuds between unscrupulous people and when Nikolai had offered a way out, Alex had taken the leap. If he'd only known what he would be getting himself into, Alex would have run as fast as his mortal legs would have carried him and hidden. It might have made no difference, since Nikolai had already decided he wanted Alex, though to what end he didn't know. The entire time he'd been a captive, all the other vampires, young and old alike, told him he should be honored to be 'chosen' by the monster.

 

Eventually, Dante feel asleep and it made Alex feel a little bit better. They blew through New Hampshire and Vermont quickly enough, and within maybe five hours, Alex pulled into Albany, New York. It obviously was still a ways to make it to NYC, but right then Alex wasn't sure how much longer he could go without blood and it was just getting so bright outside.

 

"Dante?" Alex reached over and gently shook his partner's shoulder, hoping they could switch spots again so Alex could close his eyes that were starting to ache even with the UV screens and sunglasses.

 

~

 

_"...I guess that makes sense...We don't know if someone has a guy on the inside... It's unlikely that someone's tracking us that way, but we should still be cautious."_

 

If Dante wasn’t so damn tired he would have smiled at the vampire’s lack of technical understanding. In another partner, he would have found it irritating that they were unable to effectively utilize some of the most valuable tools available to the modern-day hunter. In Alex’s case, he just found it endearing.

 

_"If someone is fine with going through the trouble to creep us out, then they have to be in a position of not having to worry about anything we could do in response...Meaning they wouldn't care if we ran off and got away...which makes me think they have some way of keeping tabs on us."_

 

Dante really couldn’t think of a way anything could possibly be tracking them besides scent, and more unlikely, their shitty disposable tracphones. Dante wasn’t entirely certain when they’d picked up the current pair, but he was definitely sure it hadn’t even been two weeks.

 

“Better safe than sorry,” Dante muttered in response as he popped the battery and SIM card out of first his own phone and then Alex’s. “Can’t be too careful.”

 

He tipped the pieces out the window onto the highway as they drove. While he normally didn’t condone littering, or leaving any trace of their passing via garbage or otherwise, he needed to heavy traffic behind them to ensure the phones were turned into plastic shrapnel as soon as possible.

 

_" 'Неважно, куда ты идешь или как далеко ты бежишь, я всегда найду тебя.' "_

 

Dante frowned at the Russian phrase. Alex had told it to him before. While the human was fluent in several languages including Latin, Greek, Italian and some sparse Spanish, their application was mostly academic. He had honed them in a massive basement library at St. Andrews under the watchful eye of stern tutors, more liberal with a switch than actual instruction. Russian was one he might start brushing up on.

 

_"No matter where you go or how far you run I will always find you. Maybe he's shielding himself? I wouldn't know how he'd do something like that, but maybe the bond works differently from his end? I don't doubt he could have found a way to conceal himself, that could be how he's been off the radar for so long. He could also be working with someone, maybe a magic user? A demon?"_

 

The implications were troubling. “I think we have to assume it’s Nikolai. And we have to assume he’s found allies. Hopefully a demon and not a witch...” while it probably sounded like an odd thing to hope for, Dante and Alex has far more experience with demons and were better equipped to handle a supernatural foe. Witches were unpredictable, usually human, and didn’t often interfere with the business of hunters. And with magic as fickle and unreliable as it was, it had been difficult to collect any reliable information on their reclusive kind.

 

“I guess our only real option here is to go on the defensive. Replenish our resources, make sure we’re prepared for anything.” It wasn’t much of a plan. In fact it wasn’t a plan at all. But without more information, what other options did they have?

 

***

 

Several hours later Dante jerked back to consciousness, blinking blearily at his partner. “Yup, I’m awake,” he lied ineffectively, straightening up in his seat and grabbing at the books and paper still in disarray on his lap. He tried to orient himself as he somewhat slowly shoved everything into his backpack, tossing it into the backseat.

 

Based on the exit signs they were already in Albany, a city that held memories for the pair. He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face, dispelling the lingering vestiges of sleep. Squinting at the clock on the dash, he found himself surprised he’d been out as long as he had. He was grateful to Alex for letting him sleep, but hoped the drive hadn’t been too rough on him. Dante preferred to conduct their travels at night, or drive himself during the day and let Alex hole up in the passenger seat away from the sun, but sometimes they just didn’t have that luxury.

 

Although still overcast, the ambient light through the clouds was still bright enough to be uncomfortable. Definitely time to give Alex a break.

 

“Pull off here,” he instructed, voice rough with hours of disuse, ”I’ll trade you.” All told, he was feeling a lot more refreshed. Years of surviving on caffeine and power naps had acclimated his body to running on very little rest, and it didn’t take much to get him back in the game.

 

The hunter finished his Gatorade in two long gulps as they pulled against the shadowed side of a Philip’s 66. It was a Sunday, he realized distantly, so the gas station wasn’t as crowded as it might normally be, traffic light and the surrounding businesses shut up for the weekend.

 

The hunter pulled out his own sunglasses, a battered pair off-brand aviators with scratched lenses, and took stock of their surroundings as he slid them on. There was a sprawling, densely-packed used car dealership across the street, giving the hunter an idea.

 

“On second thought,” he mused, “I think I can get us a new ride. Wait here.”

 

Dante made a pit stop at the trunk, shuffling through a massive tool case for the items he’d need, and waited for traffic to clear before jogging across the road and disappearing into the sea of old vehicles.

 

In about fifteen minutes he pulled back into the lot, driving around to meet Alex at the Jeep in an early-model Veloster. The vehicle was a hatchback—usually Dante’s number one requirement—but this time he was more proud of the definitely less-than-legal dark tint on every window. The car was a little flashier than he generally preferred, but it wouldn’t stand out in a busy metro like New York.

 

“No off-roading for a while,” he commented, helping his partner quickly transfer their gear to the hatchback. There were no cameras at the rear of the building and they didn’t appear to have any spectators, but caution had always served him well.

 

With Alex serving as a probably needless lookout, the human drove the Jeep into the wooded area behind the gas station, going as far as he possibly could and leaving the car cock-eyed down an overgrown slope. With any luck, it would be ages before it was discovered. Wiping down the hard surfaces for good measure, Dante jogged back to his partner.

 

Although the car was several years old and had clearly seen some tough love, it was the nicest vehicle they’d had in a long time. The interior was clean and there was no body damage to speak of. Best of all, no GPS and no low-Jack feature. Older stick-shift cars like this one were generally low on the list of stolen vehicles, as thieves preferred low-profile automatics they cold turn around quickly for parts, and the security had been abysmal. After popping the locks with practiced ease, Dante had found a push-to-start fob in the center console. This was getting too easy. By the time the dealership realized the car was gone they’d be hundreds of miles away and by then Dante would have already switched the plates.

 

Dante hadn’t always been as comfortable with the more underhanded side of his trade. There was a time when the petty theft and false ID’s, which with some pride, he now knew how to make as well as any professional, had eaten at his conscience. It had taken a lot of perspective on the true evil filling the world around him before he had been able to justify the activities that were now as familiar as breathing. Stealing was another tool for survival. The best he could do was try to ensure he wasn’t creating unnecessary victims.

 

Now fully awake, Dante settled into the comfortable driver’s seat as they pulled back onto the highway and flipped the radio on. He glanced across at Alex to see how he was doing. The vampire looked pale than usual, but that might have been a trick of the light.

 

“You know I’m back to 100%,” he mused out loud, and it wasn’t really a lie. He was feeling a lot better besides the usual aches and pains left in the aftermath of a tough hunt. “We can find a spot to hole up before we hit the city. I can help you.”

 

The offer wasn’t as veiled as it usually was, but they didn’t exactly have time on their side. He was concerned that Alex hadn’t fed and every hour would just compound the urgency of that situation. He hoped he could convince the vampire to let him be useful the only way he possibly could, but in reality, there was no way to force him to take Dante up on his offer.

 

~

 

_“Better safe than sorry,” ... “Can’t be too careful.”_

 

Alex wasn’t sure how he felt as he watched Dante dispose of the only pieces of technology they carried on them. From time to time when they were out, Alex had been intrigued by some of the things he’d seen. Of course he couldn’t afford, let alone use, one of those ‘smartphone’ things he saw everyone carrying around. Alex had tried using a touch screen once, only to find his room temperature hands didn’t register and using them with his gloves was useless. Still, while a lot of it amazed and baffled him, he worried it would annoy Dante when he asked too many questions that much have been common sense for anyone born within the last few decades.

 

_“I think we have to assume it’s Nikolai. And we have to assume he’s found allies. Hopefully a demon and not a witch...”_

 

As a child growing up in a decrepit neighborhood in New York City, he’d primarily spoke English until he was thirteen years old. Any traces of his accent had since faded with time and distance. From the age of thirteen up, when he’d been...well, he supposed adopted was the best word, he’d started learning some rudimentary Italian. His tutor had been patient with him, as had the others, and at that age Alex had been a student eager to please. It had become helpful in modern times, usually if Dante and Alex needed to talk without anyone understanding them. When Alex had been unliving with Nikolai, the older vampire insisted on Russian lessons, he’d said he liked how it sounded on his fledgling’s tongue and with nothing better to do, Alex complied. Later, in World War II he’d picked up simple German phrases, though he doubted they’d be much used to him now. Even later still, during Vietnam, he’d picked up a little bit of Vietnamese, though again it wasn’t as useful to him now. Beyond that, Alex mainly relied on Dante for any old tomes or things of that nature.

 

“Nikolai può _provare_ a trovarmi,” Alex added, distinctly not in Russian, as if adding a salve to a wound, that wound being the very mention of Nikolai and his obsession with Alex. “I want to look into finding out more about magic shielding when we get to New York. I can’t stand the idea of him knowing where I am at any given time and running blindly.”

 

The thought of Nikolai teaming up with anyone was terrifying. A demon seemed easy enough, both evil creatures with evil goals and between Alex and Dante they’d pissed off many a demon. Witches on the other hand could be an issue and while they hadn’t really bothered any magic users in their hunting, that didn’t mean Nikolai couldn’t persuade one into helping him. Despite being an evil monster, he could be charming and alluring in his own way when he wanted to be. From personal experience, Alex knew the older vampire had no trouble coercing the naive and vulnerable into doing what he wanted them to do.

 

_“I guess our only real option here is to go on the defensive. Replenish our resources, make sure we’re prepared for anything.”_

 

Alex nodded in agreement, left to his own thoughts for the five hours and trying to brainstorm with himself. In the end, he concluded that what Dante said was all they really could do. Still, Alex felt so useless waiting around for his worst nightmare to pop up again to torment him. Then again, to Alex’s understanding, Nikolai didn’t think of any of the things he did to Alex as torment, but as a series of lessons.

 

***

 

_“Yup, I’m awake,”_

 

“You sure?” Alex questioned, feeling the corners of his lips tug upward ever so slightly.

 

_“Pull off here,” ... ”I’ll trade you.” ... “On second thought,” ... “I think I can get us a new ride. Wait here.”_

 

Alex wordlessly waited as Dante put his things away, finished his Gatorade, and put on a beat up pair of aviators. He didn’t want to mention how far away the old coven house was, or where the cellar they’d hidden in was located. Both were relatively close and while one held bad memories, the other was the beginning of a new phase of his unlife. Lost in thought about that night again, Alex snapped back to the present time as Dante prepared to go across the street to steal a new-ish car.

 

_“No off-roading for a while,”_

 

As soon as Dante pulled up beside the jeep in something much nicer than what they usually drove, Alex looked a bit incredulous. It would likely be fine for the city, but it might stand out a bit on the backroads, which made Alex just a little bit paranoid, thought the paranoia was mostly irrational, so he leaves his concerns alone. Reaching in back, he opens one of the cases holding their clothes and pulls out a baseball cap and a hoodie, both of which were things he normally didn’t like wearing. Right now though, Alex wanted to avoid possibly burning his face when he was weakened.

 

It only took a few minutes between the pair of them to get all of their things transferred over and Alex was glad to not be stuck inside of a Jeep that still held the faintest smell of wolf blood. While Dante got rid of the Jeep, Alex settled in the passenger side seat, leaving the glasses on and pulling both the hat and hood more over his face. With his eyes closed, Alex sighed, relief evident at being in the dark again. Then the car was moving and Alex heard the radio come on. Peeking out from under the hood, glasses slid down to the tip of his nose, he met Dante’s eyes when the hunter had glanced at him.

 

_“You know I’m back to 100%,” ... “We can find a spot to hole up before we hit the city. I can help you.”_

 

Alex wasn’t sure what to say. All this talk of his sire had brought back plenty of bad memories and while he was in desperate need of blood soon, Alex was still a bit anxious about the idea of accepting blood from Dante directly. After a moment of contemplation, Alex turned to look straight ahead, pushing the glasses back into place and seeming to try to make himself seem smaller. For a good minute or two, it almost seemed like Alex was blowing the suggestion off, then he spoke.

 

“...Okay,” he said, simply, almost defeated sounding, but he accepted there wasn’t really any other way that didn’t involve anyone getting hurt.

 

~

 

“You look like the Unabomber,” Dante deadpanned, making the same tired joke he always did when he got the chance to see Alex in his “I hate the sunlight” outfit. He did feel a little bad for him, and for some reason guilty. He knew he’d had no control over their current situation, but he was normally pretty good about making sure things like this didn’t happen. He didn’t like putting the vampire in shit situations like their current predicament, and every time it felt like failure. He should have been more careful, made sure they had the right weapons, the time to feed, an escape route.

 

He had seen a flicker of disapproval in Alex’s face when he saw the car Dante picked out, and honestly couldn’t blame him. He figured the vampire would get over it pretty quick once he came to appreciate the dark tint. And maybe a little selfishly, Dante was greatly enjoying driving it. There wasn’t room for self-indulgence of any kind in their lifestyle, and the little moments—like hearing a well-oiled engine of a decent car purr under his hands—were all the sweeter for it.

 

_“Okay.”_

 

The single word was enough to shock Dante into silence for a long moment, his heartbeat speeding up slightly. He really hadn’t expected Alex to give in like that, and he knew it said a lot for his current state of blood-deprivation that he was considering it as an option at all. Dante was glad he had agreed, of course. It was what he had wanted after all. But there was a healthy dose of fear, too, as always accompanied the act of willingly allowing an undead creature to feed from his lifeblood. It wasn’t exactly a painless process, but maybe it was the masochist in him that didn’t care. He wished he could tell Alex that it meant a lot to him, to be needed.

 

“Good,” was what he said instead, nodding once. “I think a rest stop would be our best bet.” They’d used one before, since the bathrooms and shower rooms were generally large and had a deadbolt used to lock the rooms at night.

 

He thought of the way Italian sounded rolling off the vampire’s silver tongue. Of water droplets fresh from the shower running in tiny rivers down his chest. Of the protective note in his voice when he checked on the human after every hunt without fail. Of being in Albany, where they had first met.

 

None of that, moron, he told himself ruthlessly. Not the time.

 

“You’re right, we need to look into shielding.”

 

He changed the subject intentionally, not wanting to linger on the uncomfortable thoughts that had taken root in his mind like poison. The distraction was always worse when the subject of feeding cane up. It left him wondering if there were any other implications of offering his blood to a vampire, if it was possible that he was allowing some kind of supernatural bond to form between them that was creating these feelings. Nothing in his research supported that theory, however, and from what Alex had told him forging a bond took a lot more than that. He wasn’t even sure if it was possible to create it with a human. That left him with the uncomfortable reality, which was that nothing was influencing his feelings excerpt for himself.

 

“I know Rafter was close to my father,” he returned to pressing matters with some effort, “he has a soft spot for me. He doesn’t like vampires in his guild for personal reasons, but you know he can’t refuse them either.” The guilds were universal ceasefire zones, open to any hunter or supernatural creature imaginable so long as they maintained the peace. “I know I can get him to help us. He knows a lot more about magic-shielding than I do, anyways.”

 

Dante had never met her, but last he’d heard Rafter’s second wife was a witch. Whether she still practiced or not was another question, but at the very least he wanted to pick the bar owner’s brain for possible ways they could protect themselves if it came down to that. What little he knew of witches was that they relied heavily on talismans, crystals, chants and spellbooks. Invocation was a forbidden art amongst their kind, and that was the only real danger they ever posed in the first place. Dante had never taken them very seriously but he supposed it was never too early to start.

 

Several hours later, Dante pulled off the highway yet again in New Windsor. This time it was into a state-owned rest stop, a large modern building surrounded by a sprawling green lawn and massive trees. It’s proximity to a local airport meant they kept it up well, a detail the hunter noted absently as he pushed in the clutch and threw the shifter into neutral. He killed the engine and heaved out a quiet sigh.

 

“Come on,” he encouraged. “Lunchtime.”

 

~

 

_“You look like the Unabomber,”_

 

“You know, I don’t understand why people dress like this to try to be discreet,” Alex replied, wearing it only because he didn’t have much of a choice. On some level he felt almost insulted, as if his professional pride were hurt, being compared to the unabomber. “If I were going to blow up a place this is the last get up I’d chose to wear.”

 

Despite his initial misgivings about the car, he warmed up to the heavily tinted windows in no time. Once his eyes felt better, he pushed the glasses up into his hair, the sides pushing his hair up and out of the way. Soon after the baseball cap ended up on the dashboard, though the hoodie remained as it was, just in case they had to stop again. During the drive, Alex couldn’t help but admire how the car ran and just how much nicer it was compared to the beaters they usually stole. It was a nice car, despite it’s few flaws, but Alex doubted it would last beyond New York.

 

_“Good,” ... “I think a rest stop would be our best bet.”_

 

The shocked silence made Alex wondered if he’d said something wrong. It didn’t help that he heard Dante’s heartbeat speed up. Had Dante changed his mind? Did he regret offering his blood up like that? If Alex were capable of feeling sick from nerves he probably would need a rest stop soon. Thankfully, Dante answered and a simple ‘good’ put Alex at ease again. He nodded his agreement when Dante suggested a rest stop, though the thought of feeding from his partner again made him jittery.

 

_“You’re right, we need to look into shielding.”_

 

“If he can’t find me, he can’t hunt me,” Alex replied, knowing that if they could figure out something with some kind of shielding technique, then Nikolai might never be able to find him again. Then again, that was assuming that vampire bonding could be affected by a shield of some sort. “I’m worried though, the only way to break the bond is for him or myself to die. Anything else is just a bandaid on a gunshot wound.”

 

_“I know Rafter was close to my father,” ... “he has a soft spot for me. He doesn’t like vampires in his guild for personal reasons, but you know he can’t refuse them either.” ... “I know I can get him to help us. He knows a lot more about magic-shielding than I do, anyways.”_

 

“...Should I wait in the car?” Alex asked, knowing how hunter types felt about him, regardless of the fact that he was helping a hunter kill other vampires and such. “Or...actually, I was wondering, would you mind if I looked around the city?” Alex tried to keep his voice and expression neutral, not wanting to betray the fact that he was going to go digging into his own past a bit. “It’d be so strange to be a tourist in my own home town...” He trailed off, then glance back over to Dante. “It’s uncomfortable to stand around with a room full of people who want me dead. Well...deader I guess.”

 

Several hours later, Dante pulled off the highway yet again in New Windsor. This time it was into a state-owned rest stop, a large modern building surrounded by a sprawling green lawn and massive trees. It’s proximity to a local airport meant they kept it up well, a detail the hunter noted absently as he pushed in the clutch and threw the shifter into neutral. He killed the engine and heaved out a quiet sigh.

 

_“Come on,” ... “Lunchtime.”_

 

By the time they made it to the rest stop, Alex’s worries had mostly faded. Dante had eaten, had something to drink, even got in a decent few hours of sleep, and they were miles away from whoever had been stalking them. The only thing missing was blood, which Alex could feel he was critically low on. He wouldn’t die of course, but he’d heard some vampires just kind of withered and became little more than sentient corpses from not feeding.

 

“Do you have to call it that?” Alex asked, taking off of his seatbelt and preparing to head inside even though it wasn’t totally dark yet. In a way, referring to it as a simple meal time was much better than calling it what it was when done between two consenting individuals. ‘Lunchtime’ was what one might call chasing down a frightened human before ripping their throat out with one’s teeth. What him and Dante were doing implied a lot of things in vampire culture aside from gaining sustenance.

 

~

 

_“If he can’t find me, he can’t hunt me... I’m worried though, the only way to break the bond is for him or myself to die. Anything else is just a bandaid on a gunshot wound.”_

 

“You know, it might be time. For him to die.” The thought was darkly satisfying, and if it was that attractive to Dante he could only imagine how Alex felt. “You said yourself you wanted to finish him off. Maybe this is a sign from the universe or something that it’s time.”

 

He stared out the windshield, watching the road fly by under their wheels. “We should never have left him alive.” As far as Dante was concerned, Nikolai deserved a hell of a lot more than a stake through his heart. He deserved to suffer.

 

_“...Should I wait in the car or...actually, I was wondering, would you mind if I looked around the city It’d be so strange to be a tourist in my own home town... It’s uncomfortable to stand around with a room full of people who want me dead. Well...deader I guess.”_

 

“Of course you can,” Dante shrugged, despite the cold ripple of uneasiness he felt at the idea of letting Alex out of his sight. “We’re not joined at the hip you know.”

 

Well, sometimes it certainly felt like they were.

 

Despite his misgivings Dante wasn’t going to stop Alex from wandering the city on his own; it seemed selfish. As was dragging him into a bar where vampires generally didn’t venture. But it had been a long time since they’d spent more than an hour or two apart and the very idea left him feeling a little unsettled, like losing a piece of himself to the bustling city and hoping against hope it would come back to him.

 

The more Dante thought it over, it might actually be a healthy thing for them both. It would give him a chance to clear his head, try to remember who he was. And Alex needed his space as well, however easy it was to forget that.

 

He had rationalized himself into liking the idea by the time they hit the rest stop.

 

_“Do you have to call it that?”_

 

“I’m sorry, _dinnertime_ ,” Dante rolled his eyes. “It’s all semantics anyways.”

 

He wasn’t sure if his acerbic humor was more for his own sake or for his partner’s. He knew they both had mixed feelings about this process, and anything that would it make it easier seemed like a blessing.

 

The human surveyed the short walk up to the building, glad there was cover available from the trees. Aside from that it was very nearly dark thanks to the short days of late autumn. Even so, Dante didn’t want to put his partner through any more misery than necessary in his weakened state.

 

Inside, the rest stop was shockingly clean and oddly cold, the air conditioning buzzing loudly despite the cool temperature outside. Dante double checked both the restrooms, eventually satisfied that they were currently the sole occupants of the building. He finally decided on a large shower room with a lock. The water required quarters to start, but that wasn’t their goal. Once they were both locked inside, Dante shed his jacket and pulled his shirt off over his head, silently offering Alex access to his skin.

 

The hunter knew he should probably make a joke right about now, maybe something about two guys locked in a truck stop bathroom, but didn’t have the heart. He knew Alex hated this enough already. That fact was oddly crushing. He had no idea what was wrong with him to make him feel that way, but it definitely wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

 

~

 

_“You know, it might be time. For him to die.” ... “You said yourself you wanted to finish him off. Maybe this is a sign from the universe or something that it’s time.”_

 

“Or it could be a sign that he’s going to finish us off,” Alex added, thrilled at the idea of being freed from constantly looking over his shoulder either way, which was a very morbid way to look at it. “Or maybe he’s going to stalk us until we both go crazy from the paranoia.”

 

_“We should never have left him alive.”_

 

“I’m sure he’s thought the same thing about me this entire time,” Alex said, dryly. “I know the coven elders did...I don’t know, it was always pretty disturbing but...” he trailed off, not entirely sure Nikolai wanted him dead. If that wasn’t the case, the older vampire most definitely wanted Alex to suffer.

 

_“Of course you can,” ... “We’re not joined at the hip you know.”_

 

“I know, but it’s hard to not get separated in a place that big,” Alex stated simply. They’d need a meeting point or they’d have to pick up new phones before separating. “I’d hate for you to run into trouble without me,” he tacked on, despite feeling unsettled by the idea of spending too much time away from Dante. “Or get lost, or worst of all, spend more than a dollar on a street vendor hotdog. It used to be a nickel when I was your age, but if they charge more than a dollar now it’s because they think your a gullible tourist.”

 

Alex stopped, realizing he was rambling about hotdog prices in New York City of all things. He couldn’t help it though, the stress and nerves getting the better of him. There were times like this when Alex wished vampirism had taken his fight or flight response, but alas it was as active as ever under stress and right now he was dealing with several stressors. Nikolai being back, possibly working with someone else who had it in for them, being hungry, and to make matters worse, Dante seemed so calm about them going their separate ways.

 

_“I’m sorry, dinnertime,” ...“It’s all semantics anyways.”_

 

At one point or another, during one of their many motel room stays, Alex had managed to watch a few episodes of a show called ‘The Office’ while Dante was asleep. Obviously Alex had many questions when Dante woke up and wasn’t entirely certain it was a comedy until answers were given. Either way, Alex was pretty sure he was looking at Dante was a familiar ‘can you believe this’ look he’d seen character Jim Halpert direct to the camera frequently on the show.

 

In any other context, any truck stop joke Dante might have made would have gone over fine. Here and now Alex was looking unusually pale and wasn’t liking the situation much. Under fluorescent light, Alex could pick out the damage done to Dante from the werewolf hunt, which only made him feel worse about what he was about to do.

 

~

 

Dante’s lips quirked into a smile, shaking his head at his partner. Heaven forbid the hunter forget for even an hour that Alex was a 100-some-odd year old vampire who remembered when hot dogs cost a nickel. 

 

“Don’t worry grandpa,” he retorted fondly, “I promise not to spend more than eighteen bucks on a hotdog, tops. Although to be fair, I am a tourist.”

 

He was hoping to glaze over the vampire’s previous statement, but honestly Alex had hit the nail on the head. I’d hate for you to run into trouble without me. It was a concern Dante shared wholeheartedly. He worried if he gave it voice it would sound wrong, like asking Alex not to leave and he knew the vampire wouldn’t refuse him. 

 

“If you change your mind, you can always come back to the bar and find me,” he left the offer open-ended. “You know they’re not gonna throw bottles at you or anything if you come in there. At worst you might get a dirty look or two—so will I—but I have a feeling we’ll survive. At the very least I’ll make sure to grab us some new phones before we split up.”

 

It was the best he could do at a compromise, though the paranoid, over-cautious part of him was vigorously protesting the thought of splitting up. 

 

Back at the rest stop, Dante schooled his face into a carefully impassive mask as Alex approached him. For some reason in the harsh light, his partner seemed taller, larger, more imposing. Which was ridiculous of course, considering Dante could literally feel the nerves coming off the vampire in waves. Even so, his instincts sensed a predator. A threat.


	3. Peanut Butter and Jelly for Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinnertime, arcade games, and a whole lot of jelly on a PB&J sandwich.

“Any preference?” Alex asked, not sure where Dante was okay with him biting.

 

They did this so infrequently and usually only when Alex was too weak to have much of a choice in how they did this. Usually, he’d feel the warm, tacky feeling of blood on his lips, prompting him to latch on until he’d had a few mouthfuls. It was never really more than what the average blood bank took from a single person. Alex had never actually known other vampires to try to fully drain the roughly six gallons in a human body. Most of the time, cause of death by vampire was due to the vampires carelessness or disregard for human life.

 

After picking a location to bite down, Alex approached, trying to appear less predatory despite advancing on Dante in a way that would have scared off any ordinary person. Once he was less than a foot away, well within Dante’s personal bubble, he leaned in, the scent of cigarettes, Gatorade, leather, and an indescribable humanness hitting him as his fangs grazed over tanned skin. He cast one final look up to Dante, as if in silent apology, before he sunk his fangs into the offered up expanse of skin.

 

Alex knew it hurt, having been on the receiving end decades ago. Feeling muscles around where he bit starting to tense, he moved his hands to rest over them, gently digging his thumbs in and making small circles. He was trying to get the muscle fibers to relax, not wanting to create any more unnecessary discomfort. In some ways it might have seemed like a kitten kneading, and to a degree it did help with blood flow, but that wasn’t the goal.

 

When Alex is finally done, he runs his tongue along the twin puncture marks, another silent apology as he pulled away. All things considered, he wasn’t known to be a sloppy eater, but he was known to be good at swallowing.

 

~

 

_“Any preference?”_

 

Dante held up his non-dominant right arm, offering the skin at the junction of his bicep. Ever since Alex had explained to him the significance such acts could have to vampires, his partner’s reluctance to take advantage of the hunter’s offers made perfect sense. On the occasions that it became an absolute necessity, he’d begun to think maybe the other wouldn’t be comfortable feeding from his neck. After all, performing such an intimate procedure with someone he felt nothing towards couldn’t possibly be enjoyable, much less from an erogenous zone. Actually, Alex made it pretty clear this wasn’t enjoyable.

 

“Can’t go walking into a guild with fang marks on my neck,” Dante gave weakly by way of explanation, hoping it read like the truth. “People might start to talk.” His voice was quiet, but it seemed to echo in the empty space.

 

He nodded his permission to Alex when the vampire took hold of his arm and looked up at him.

 

It took everything in the human’s willpower to stay silent as razor-sharp fangs pierced through skin, and he felt the muscles in his neck and shoulders contract with the strain of remaining perfectly still. Base human instinct screamed at him to pull away, to fight or run, but he knew by now he was stronger than that. He didn’t make a sound.

 

The hunter focused instead on controlling his harsh breathing, his eyes screwing shut to hide whatever might pass there from the vampire so close to him. His back was cold, pressed against the concrete, and he could smell Alex’s jacket. He focused in on it, giving his senses a place to wander besides the fear and pain and other stronger, more complicated sensations.

 

He doesn’t feel that way about you. This is disgusting to him. He needs blood to live, but he doesn’t need you. You latch onto him like a parasite, always taking, always needing. You drag him down. You’re the reason he hasn’t fed. He would rather have anyone else’s blood. You’re a last resort.

 

Fueled by pain and the strange sensation of blood leaving his body in a rush, Dante fell into his head and the ugly thoughts that pulled at him like grasping fingers. Those were easier, more logical, than the places his mind usually wandered when Alex was so close to him.

 

It didn’t matter what the cost was. He wasn’t going to lose Alex. If that meant waking up every day and convincing himself there was absolutely nothing more in him, nothing but friendship and brotherhood, then that was what he would do. Because if Alex found out about this small seed of... something, growing in Dante’s chest a little stronger every day, he knew with absolute certainty the vampire would leave.

 

Alex finally pulled away, his tongue a caress over the wound like an apology, soothing and cool. Dante realized at some point he’d latched onto the vampire’s shoulder with his free hand. He couldn’t pull away yet though, since Alex was probably the only thing keeping him standing for the moment.

 

“Sorry—give me a minute,” he panted, the room spinning around him dangerously.

 

Feeling lightheaded was normal after letting Alex feed, if they could really call any part of this normal. Although he’d never had the actual experience of donating blood, he knew that’s what Alex compared it to. This might be a little worse than usual.

 

“Did you get enough?” He asked partially to distract himself, and partially because if he didn’t say anything Alex might start to worry. His vision was still blurry, but he managed to support his own weight on wobbly legs and release his death grip on the vampire’s jacket.

 

~

 

_“Don’t worry grandpa,” ... “I promise not to spend more than eighteen bucks on a hot dog, tops. Although to be fair, I am a tourist.”_

 

"I think I'm closer in age to your great-grandfather, actually," Alex quipped with a sigh. He was mostly worried about Dante looking like a tourist and therefore a target to some of the locals. Not that he didn't think Dante could handle himself against a would-be mugger or something, but it was one less thing he wanted to worry about while they were apart.

 

_“If you change your mind, you can always come back to the bar and find me,” ... “You know they’re not gonna throw bottles at you or anything if you come in there. At worst you might get a dirty look or two—so will I—but I have a feeling we’ll survive. At the very least I’ll make sure to grab us some new phones before we split up.”_

 

"I know," the vampire replied, knowing it was safe, but still hating how poorly received they were by other patrons when they wandered in to anywhere frequented by hunters. Alex had handled worse than dirty looks in both phases of his existence, but what really bothered him was how it affected Dante's interactions when he was seen with a vampire. "If I get bored or don't find what I'm looking for, I'll stop by."

 

***

 

If the situation had been different, Alex might have tried to reassure his partner about all of his concerns and worries. Then again, if things were different it might have been possible to make the entire feeding process enjoyable. Granted, Alex never really learned the art of making it feel good for the person he was biting. He did know there were people out there who liked being bitten, he also knew there were vampires who kept humans around specifically for that reason.

 

While feeding, Alex could sense some distress from Dante and regretted he had no way to do anything about it. In some ways, it was ironic that Dante considered himself a parasite when Alex was quite literally sucking his blood like a literal parasite. The whole process made Alex wished he'd let Nikolai teach him how to lure humans in and make the whole mess less painful for them. He'd heard cortisol brought on by stress made the blood taste off. As a result, some vampires went the extra mile to placate their prey and it usually wasn't out of altruism. If Alex had asked Nikolai to teach him any of those tricks, he was certain it would have resulted in hurting an innocent person as practice, or Nikolai demonstrating on Alex himself, which he didn't want.

 

The entire time Alex fed, he felt worse and worse, wanting to get it over with even as he felt his strength starting to return. There was even a warmth pooling in the pit of his stomach, but knowing he was hurting his partner made it almost unbearable. The moment Alex knew he'd had enough, and was sure Dante wouldn't be too drained, he stopped. There was no reason to keep going beyond that point that wasn't out of pure gluttony.

 

Feeling the grip of Dante's hand on his shoulder, Alex reached up with one hand to rest it on top of Dante's. He didn't mind, considering Dante had just helped him avoid spending the whole day suffering. He'd be fine standing there until he was sure Dante wasn't going to topple over, in the meanwhile, he addressed the matter of his distaste for the various hunters they'd met over the years.

 

_“Can’t go walking into a guild with fang marks on my neck,” ... “People might start to talk.”_

 

"You know what they say about people who let vampires feed from them, right?" Alex said, knowing full well Dante knew as well. The vampire had heard in passing plenty of derogatory remarks from hunters about humans who did it. The last thing he wanted was for people to start aiming those same remarks at Dante. From either side, it didn't look good, though, from Alex's understanding, most vampires thought of Dante as his mass murdering pet, which in of itself pissed Alex off. "They already talk too much if you ask me."

 

_“Sorry—give me a minute,” ... “Did you get enough?”_

 

"I got enough," Alex confirmed, already concerned even going as far as to not want Dante to let go. "Also, your blood sugar is too low. You're going to need to eat more, and not whatever day old garbage is laying out on display at a gas station." His tone had changed, implying he wasn't going to budge on the issue, especially considering the fact that Dante had lost blood for his benefit. "Do you think it'd be fine to go out once the sun is down? Together I mean." He asked, tone going back to usual.

 

~

 

 _"You know what they say about people who let vampires feed_ from _them, right?" ... "They already talk too much if you ask me."_

 

In his disoriented state, Dante couldn’t quite grasp why Alex brought that up. He tried not to read into it, but couldn’t help wondering for a brief moment if Alex saw him that way too.

 

While he’d never met one himself, he was familiar with the concept in theory. He and Alex had enjoyed many a brisk discussion on the subject in fact. There were humans that devoted themselves and their entire lives to being living blood banks, existing for vampires to feed upon. Enjoyed it, even.

 

Dante had always considered those humans weak, twisted, somehow brainwashed. Their mindset was so far out of his grasp he couldn’t begin to try to comprehend it. Then again, look at him. Wasn’t he doing the exact same thing? He’d told himself it was different, that his concern for his partner drove him to do what years ago he would have been disgusted by the mere thought of. At this particular moment, that confidence was wavering.

 

_"I got enough.”_

 

The hunter appreciated the cool hand that landed on his own, a silent apology. He didn’t dare to let it linger, and reluctantly released his hold on the vampire. Standing this close, touching in the quiet dark, it was too intimate for the Dante’s overworked brain to handle.

 

_"Also, your blood sugar is too low. You're going to need to eat more, and not whatever day old garbage is laying out on display at a gas station."_

 

“I’m fine,” he said automatically, needing to reassure both Alex and himself. A dark doubt flashed through his mind. Did Alex really care about him? Was he asking out of genuine concern for his well being, or because he wanted to make sure he had a stable food source available when he needed it? Although the doubt was ridiculous, it festered like an open wound, refusing to be ignored.

 

“I’ll eat a solid meal tonight,” he promised, pushing past the darkness of his own creation, even while knowing it was a fear that would continue to nag at him when he was once again alone with his thoughts. Overthinking had long been an asset to him, but it was also one of his greatest flaws.

 

Dante was hyper-aware of what this did to him. He’d noticed it the first time he’d willingly offered his blood to Alex, and developed a ghost of a theory that was confirmed the next time it happened. His mind drifted to impossibly dark places in the day or two that followed the feeding, sending him into a spiral of doubt and self-loathing that apparently, only time and electrolytes could save him from. He wasn’t sure what caused it. Despite the bleak world of monsters, motel rooms, and endless road trips in which he lived, he generally floated above the chaos, held up on the crutches of nicotine and sarcasm. Not much really got to him. That facade was ripped away whenever Alex fed, leaving him raw, vulnerable, unable to maintain his usual impenetrable mental shields. The mood always passed, during which time he took great care to hide his miserable thoughts from his partner, but it made for a rough couple days.

 

And yet he always did it again. Asked for it even. Needed it. Like a junkie waiting for his next hit with bated breath. If that didn’t tell a damning truth about him, nothing did.

 

_"Do you think it'd be fine to go out once the sun is down? Together I mean."_

Dante was surprised by the question. “I don’t see why not,” he mused eventually, slowly pulling his t-shirt back on over drained limbs and tying a wrapped handkerchief around his arm to hide the small wound. “We’re far enough out of Maine. Close enough to the city.” He assumed the vampire wanted to hit on their long-neglected supply list, but it seemed like an odd time to ask.

 

~

 

It hadn’t really occurred to Alex how Dante might have interpreted his words when he mentioned the gossip mills that hunters could be. He didn’t want other hunters to find out on the off chance that it made the guilds even more unfriendly to the pair. On the flip side, Alex could only feel pity for the humans who ended up being glorified blood bags. He was pretty sure a lot of why it happened had to do with some sort of cult-like brainwashing.

 

Alex was well aware that while some were willing, others hadn’t agreed to any of it. Those few were sometimes homeless people, runaways, and others the world wouldn’t miss if they disappeared. Some of them were grateful and viewed it as an improvement over their otherwise bleak existence. Some resisted their fate only to eventually succumb and accept it after years of being fed from. A smaller minority were exceptional people chosen with the intent of eventually making them vampires as well. What he didn’t understand was humans holding their own kind with such contempt over it.

 

Thinking about those people didn’t make Alex feel any better about what he and Dante were doing. He didn’t like hurting the hunter and he absolutely hated the thought that someone might compare Dante to a bunch of crazy people who did this sort of thing for the fun of it. Even now, Alex knew it’d be a long time before he agreed to feed from Dante again, unless he were on Death’s doorstep.

 

There were times when Alex knew people probably thought he was using Dante for blood. Mostly it was a common taunt from another vampire before he’d kill them — implying he wasn’t any better than them. To Alex, the insinuation that he was anything like other vampires and only stuck with Dante for food was laughable. If he’d thought of Dante as only food, he likely wouldn’t have resisted the offer so much. Then again, if he thought of Dante as food, he probably would have been the sort of person to happily fall in line with his old coven, rather than run off and hunt them.

 

_“I’m fine,” ...“I’ll eat a solid meal tonight,”_

 

Alex couldn’t help but be confused after he fed from Dante. It had always been kind of like this, another reason he hated doing it at all unless necessary. There was a melancholic kind of gloom that followed and he hated it. Perhaps it was a byproduct of losing blood, though Alex hadn’t known other humans to react like that. Sure, they were lethargic when they lost blood, usually unsteady on their feet, but Dante always seemed borderline depressed after. A pang of...something hit Alex then, wondering if being fed from was so bad. Thinking about it, and considering Dante’s history, for all Alex knew there was some kind of cognitive dissonance going on that he himself couldn’t understand.

 

_“I don’t see why not,” ... “We’re far enough out of Maine. Close enough to the city.”_

Normally, Alex never really asked to go out and when they did it was usually either hunting, on hunter related business, or for him to feed. He’d found most days he preferred staying in with Dante and either just talking or finding other ways to keep himself occupied. In four years of them, Alex still hadn’t even told Dante every story of everything that had happened over the course of his life. Some part of him doubted he ever would, though part of it was simply because he didn’t want Dante to know the sordid details of his mortal life.

 

“Okay, what do modern humans normally do at night?” He asked, genuinely curious. “All I see nowadays is people on their Snapgrams and Instabooks,” he frowned a little. Thinking for a second, he realized he might have gotten the terminology wrong, but having only ever heard about the things in passing he wasn’t sure. “...Don’t make a bingo joke, bingo didn’t even exist when I was human.”

 

~

 

_“Okay, what do modern humans normally do at night?”_

 

Dante was dumbfounded. Out of everything he’d expected to hear, that question didn’t even make the list. There was, apparently, still a first time for everything.

 

“I... I don’t really know, actually,” he found himself coming up short, still trying to understand the request that had come straight out of left field. He briefly entertained the idea that he might be hallucinating from blood loss. How had they gone from hunting and being hunted, to exploring the nightlife of New York?

 

“Honestly I was never exactly a modern human anyways. I studied and trained. Or I hunted.”

 

Dante was well aware he’d had an abnormal upbringing, skipping straight through childhood to a soldier of the church, a mantle that had never quite fit. He sometimes wondered if that was the source of his disconnect with most humans. The hunter had grown up in a different world, isolated from his own age group and taught to focus on one thing as his sole life’s purpose: the hunt. He’d attended the occasional class at a local high school for a while, but had been so strange and alienated that making friends had been impossible. In any case, the priests hadn’t let him stay there long. He hadn’t gone to college, or played on a football team, or gone to summer camp. Instead he’d watched kids his own age do those things from behind a stained glass prison, wondering if he’d be that lonely until the day he died.

 

Even when he’d finally fled, it wasn’t to the normal life he’d secretly dreamed of. Dante found out quickly that he didn’t fit into the human world, either, leaving him trapped in limbo and floating aimlessly. Completely and utterly alone. It didn’t take long before he was back to hunting, the only thing he knew how to do, determined to die in the process.

 

Meeting Alex had halted that headlong plunge. Maybe that was why he was so connected to him, so desperate. His relationship with the vampire was the first he’d ever formed of his own free will, free of the watchful eyes and prodding hands that had directed his life like a screenplay. Alex represented the hunter’s choice to continue living, and a life of his own at that. A companionship he’d never had, a family he’d chosen for himself. Redemption.

 

_“All I see nowadays is people on their Snapgrams and Instabooks...”_

“Facebook,” the hunter corrected Alex with a smile, his spirits inexplicably lifted by the vampire’s awkward attempts at modern lingo. “Instagram. So close, but no cigar.”

 

_“...Don’t make a bingo joke, bingo didn’t even exist when I was human.”_

 

“I wasn’t going to make a bingo joke,” Dante defended himself. His voice was still too drained for the full effect of his usual comebacks, but he could at least try. “Something about playing horseshoes maybe. Or we could go to a drive-in, stop by the soda fountain... I’m a little rusty but you catch the drift.”

 

The hunter eased up on his gentle teasing because it wasn’t lost on him that Alex was trying something new. What motivated it, he couldn’t begin to guess, but he might as well play along.

 

The spinning room was slowing down like a carousel reaching the end of the ride, allowing Dante to really focus his eyes on his partner again. Even still, he remained unreadable. Not a clue to be seen about his sudden interest in tourism.

 

“In all seriousness,” the human shrugged back into his jacket, hiding his tilting balance by leaning against the wall. “Modern humans sleep at night. Or they screw. College kids party, ravers dance, junkies get high. There’s plenty to do at night, but I don’t think any of it’s going to be what you had in mind.”

 

Truth be told he had no idea what Alex had in mind. He was infinitely curious though.

 

“Personally I always preferred sneaking down to the docks with a swiped bottle of whiskey.” Dante smiled at the memory of many a long night laying flat on his back on the pier, already drunk on a few ounces and counting the endless stars. That was his great rebellion: petty theft and sneaking out. What a waste.

 

~

 

_“I... I don’t really know, actually,” ... “Honestly I was never exactly a modern human anyways. I studied and trained. Or I hunted.”_

 

Alex was hoping maybe Dante would have a better idea of what counted as ‘fun’ in this era. Apparently, he was mistaken, though maybe he didn’t phrase the question as well as he would have liked. What he was really shooting for was what would Dante want to do in his free time that was available when Alex could go with him. Right then with all the excitement and terror that had chased them out of Maine, not to mention how Dante got after Alex fed from him, he wanted to try to do something.

 

“In that case, what have you always wanted to do that wasn’t training or hunting?” Alex asked, not wanting to give up on finding something to take Dante’s mind off of whatever seemed to be bothering him. The vampire was sure it had something to do with the process of being fed from, he just wasn’t sure why or what to do about it.

 

In his earliest years, Alex and the kids in the same neighborhood always found ways to get into trouble. Things were different then, it wasn’t uncommon for kids to leave and run around all day before heading for home at sunset. The boys in particular often arrived home somewhat messy and battered up from roughhousing, but that was normal for the time. Alex couldn’t quite recall what his favorite game was, or what he liked to do in those early years. Unlike the other boys, Alex didn’t have a mother at home to scold him, just a drunken father stumbling in late in the evening after a day at the docks and a night at the bar.

 

As he grew older, after his father was out of the picture, he’d grown to like games of strategy like chess and he had been fairly good at cards as well. While other boys his age balked at the idea of music lessons, Alex had found playing the piano to be relaxing. Granted, when he was first learning his knuckles were littered with bruises for each mistake he made. His adoptive grandfather had high expectations and Alex’s tutor wasn’t about to disappoint him. If Alex remembered correctly, he knew sports like baseball were popular and dance halls were filled every night. Before the vampire could drift too deeply into awkward memories of puberty and painful ones of becoming an adult, he was brought back to the present moment by a jab at his attempt at modern lingo.

 

_“Facebook,” ... “Instagram. So close, but no cigar.”_

 

“What about... Twitchat? The blue one with a bunch of twits chatting with each other?” He sighed, almost defeated, certain that had to be wrong too. “What about...” Alex paused, thinking and trying to remember the phase he was thinking of. “...Getting cold with Hulu? Is that still a thing people do? Obviously we don’t have a ‘subscription’ or anything, so we can’t...” The vampire trailed off, not even aware of the connotation attached to ‘Netflix and chill.’

 

_“I wasn’t going to make a bingo joke,” ... “Something about playing horseshoes maybe. Or we could go to a drive-in, stop by the soda fountain... I’m a little rusty but you catch the drift.”_

 

“See, I knew you’d find a way to make an old person joke,” Alex retorted, feeling his lips twitch up into a slight smile. “The horseshoe thing isn’t too far off, but the other two are just as out of place as bingo. I died in 1925, not the 1950s. They existed, they just weren’t popular.”

 

_“In all seriousness,” ...“Modern humans sleep at night. Or they screw. College kids party, ravers dance, junkies get high. There’s plenty to do at night, but I don’t think any of it’s going to be what you had in mind.”_

 

In the four years he’d been partnered with Dante, Alex had found the young hunter to be painfully stubborn. It was worse in the first year or so, but gradually it became less of a negative in Alex’s opinion. If Alex were mortal he was sure it would have given him a few grey hairs, but as it was it was at most a point of frustration and fondness at the same time. Right now though, Alex was sure Dante wouldn’t be as interested if Alex outright said he was trying to cheer the human up. As long as Alex framed this as him being interested in new things, he was hopeful Dante would go along with it.

 

“You might be shocked to learn when I was your age sleep, sex, and dancing were all things people did at night,” Alex replied with a nostalgic tone to his voice. “I...I’ve just been thinking about the past a lot lately,” he added, a little unsure sounding. “I might actually just be getting old,” he said quickly, trying to avoid making the conversation a downer.

 

_“Personally I always preferred sneaking down to the docks with a swiped bottle of whiskey.”_

 

“Do you want to do that?” Alex asked, kicking himself a moment later. Alcohol did nothing for him and he wasn’t sure if a drunk Dante would be the best thing right then. “We can do whatever you want, but you should probably eat something and rest before we do anything.”

 

During their conversation, Alex had been half expecting Dante to tip over and had been ready to lunge to catch the hunter in case it happened. Thankfully, Dante gradually seemed less and less disoriented from the blood loss. A small part of Alex had wanted to try to get Dante to sit or lay down, but he’d found that being too direct or demanding rarely worked in his favor. Alex’s mouth twitched, the same sort of motion it made when he was ready to say something, but stopped himself just in time. Often, this happened when he was about to go into Mother Hen mode, but stopped himself.

 

~

 

_“In that case, what have you always wanted to do that wasn’t training or hunting?”_

 

 _Have you lost your mind?_ Was what Dante was really thinking as he listened to his partner. He narrowly avoided blurting that comment out, for the simple reason that he didn’t want to crush whatever strange line of self-discovery Alex had suddenly lit upon. If the vampire really wanted the 21st century human experience, then far be it from Dante to discourage him.

 

The question itself was disarming, mostly because all of his possible answers were so impossibly mundane. His bucket list had never been things like skydiving or visiting Hawaii. He’d wanted to go through a McDonald’s drive-through, spend a day playing video games, drive a fast car. Of course he’d been a kid back then but even so his aspirations had never been terribly lofty. After essentially running away from home, he’d tried most of those things. Turned out they weren’t all that satisfying after all.

 

“I don’t know,” Dante felt frustrated with himself that he didn’t even have an answer. “Normal stuff, really. Go to an arcade, eat greasy pizza. Go to a Phillies game. I never really wanted to do anything that exciting, really.”

 

_“What about... Twitchat? The blue one with a bunch of twits chatting with each other?”_

 

“Yes,” Dante nodded, his face carefully blank, “Twitchat. You got that one right actually.” He hoped to god the vampire dropped that word in conversation at some point.

 

_“What about...Getting cold with Hulu? Is that still a thing people do? Obviously we don’t have a ‘subscription’ or anything, so we can’t...”_

 

This is too much, Dante shook his head at the ground, wishing he had the energy to laugh like he wanted to.

 

“Netflix and chill,” Dante supplied the phrase, “and your first lesson in modern slang is to never say those words again. Trust me, it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

 

_“See, I knew you’d find a way to make an old person joke.”_

 

“As long as you say old man shit, I’m gonna make old man jokes,” Dante shrugged. “It’s the circle of life my friend. Besides, I learned about both those decades from history books so regardless of what era we’re talking, it’s still outdated.”

 

 _“You might be shocked to_ _learn when I was your age sleep, sex, and dancing were all things people did at night. I...I’ve just been thinking about the past a lot lately. I might actually just be getting old.”_

 

Wondering what the hell had suddenly got into the vampire was a welcome distraction from Dante’s own dark thoughts. He had no idea why Alex was suddenly so... invested, for lack of a better word. Between the two of them they spent a lot more time talking about the past than the present, learning and planning their next moves. They didn’t have any life to speak of besides traveling and hunting and foraging for supplies like wild animals.

 

Maybe that wasn’t the healthiest way to live. And maybe, however far out of left field it may have come from, the vampire actually had a point about doing something out of the usual.

 

_“Do you want to do that? We can do whatever you want, but you should probably eat something and rest before we do anything.”_

 

“No, no,” Dante quickly stopped that train in the station. “I don’t need to be drinking anything right now.” Besides being something of a lightweight, Dante didn’t think it would be much fun doing shots with someone who was eternally sober. “Can’t risk being drunk if something happens. I’d probably never live that down... anyways I was just a moody little shit back then.”

 

He was starting to realize that Alex was trying to get him to do something normal, which was a touching thought... but Dante was at a loss for what “normal” was in their world.

 

“You’re right about one thing, we should start with food.” That sounded like an easy compromise.

 

As usual, Dante didn’t actually feel hungry, but there was no need to mention that. He knew if he ate Alex might ease off him a little bit and so long as one of them felt better about things, that was progress. Dante knew it worried Alex when he didn’t eat, but meals had never been a pastime to him. Food was simply fuel, existing to pump into the tank when the engine light came on. Just enough to continue driving.

 

“The first thing I want to do though,” Dante experimented with supporting his own weight, “is get the hell out of this bathroom. Or people are really gonna start to talk.”

 

The hunter definitely wasn’t back in fighting shape, but he could walk on his own and that was a blessing in itself. He’d been a little worried. If his steps were a little less steady than usual he felt that he hid it well, and the spinning sensation was mostly gone by the time they got to the doors.

 

It was dark outside when they re-emerged, though the floodlights overhead were piercingly bright. Dante blinked at them irritably as they made a slightly slower journey back to the car.

 

Dante made sure to get to the door first so Alex couldn’t try to take the driver’s seat away from him, knowing he was being stubborn but unable to really care. He needed to prove the point that he was just fine, thank you very much. The hunter could feel his partner hovering like an overprotective mother walking after a toddler. It irritated the hell out of him while at the same time, making him feel slightly better.

 

Once seated, he turned over the engine and cranked up the heat, relieved to find that it worked well. This car was really going to spoil him. A deep chill had settled into his bones, leaving his fingers feeling numb, but he hoped the heat would take care of that issue.

 

For good measure he twisted the top off his last bottle of Gatorade and tipped it to the vampire, showing him he was drinking something and not about to keel over. Granted, he’d been briefly worried he might actually pass out this time, but Alex didn’t need to know that. He was functioning. Alex had fed. All things considered, mission accomplished.

 

“So, why the sudden urge to see the nightlife?” He couldn’t resist asking while he took a minute to sit there, basking in the warm air from the heater.

 

~

 

Alex very well might have lost his mind. Normally he would have found wasting time like this silly, absurd even. He found things to keep himself occupied during the daytime when he was trapped inside, things like fixing their equipment, journaling his accounts of their hunts, reading things that might become helpful to them on a hunt, even going as far as to peruse through Dante’s journals, and if all else failed, he’d turn on a hotel room TV and watch the first thing that came up until night fell again.

 

_“I don’t know,” ... “Normal stuff, really. Go to an arcade, eat greasy pizza. Go to a Phillies game. I never really wanted to do anything that exciting, really.”_

 

“I’m sure they have arcades somewhere nearby,” Alex offered, running with the least difficult and most do-able option presented. “They have much better pizza in NYC, but I’m sure the pizza around here is fine,” the vampire was a little biased in regard to where the best pizza could be found. “Did you want to go to a Phillies game?” As out of touch as Alex was, he still understood inflation and was well aware they couldn’t afford tickets to something like that.

 

_“Yes,” ... “Twitchat. You got that one right actually.”_

 

“Right,” Alex said, nodding and accepting it for the truth, despite the fact he was actually thinking about Tumblr, but managed to mess it up by thinking of some amalgamation of Twitter and Snapchat. Not that it made a difference in Alex’s mind, to him all social media was twits chatting with one another.

 

_“Netflix and chill,” ... “and your first lesson in modern slang is to never say those words again. Trust me, it doesn’t mean what you think it means.”_

 

“...What does it mean then?” Alex asked, looking thoughtful, he couldn’t imagine what else it meant. To his knowledge ‘chill’ mean relaxing, lazing about, and things like that. Despite forgetting the names, he understood what Netflix was, so he was even more perplexed as to why the name of a video streaming service was involved if this wasn’t about watching Netflix. “This is like speaking an entirely different language at times.”

 

_“As long as you say old man shit, I’m gonna make old man jokes,”_

 

Alex almost wanted to ask Dante if he’d still be making old man jokes when he too was old. Given how short the life of a hunter could be, the vampire elected not to say anything. After all, he was still pretty concerned about Dante’s glaring mortality. Not to mention, he couldn’t imagine Dante as an old man, though when he’d met him he couldn’t imagine him as anything other than a stubborn, jump first ask questions later teenager.

 

Knowing that Dante always seemed melancholic after Alex fed from him and the realization Nikolai might be back, a part of Alex wanted them to focus on the here and now. Most of the time when they talked, just to pass the time or to learn from each other, they’d only ever focused on the past. Knowing a murderous vampire might be on their tail was just an added boost on top of wanting to ensure Dante wasn’t mopey for a few days.

 

_“No, no,” ... “I don’t need to be drinking anything right now.” ... “Can’t risk being drunk if something happens. I’d probably never live that down... anyways I was just a moody little shit back then.”_

 

“You were still moody when I met you,” Alex quipped, though a faint tug at the corner of his lips implied he didn’t mind. “And I guess you also foiled my plan to have you loosen up and eventually drink yourself into a stupor.”

 

_“You’re right about one thing, we should start with food.”_

 

“I’m sure $40 is more than enough to cover some greasy pizza,” the vampire said, glad he was getting somewhere with his plan. “And arcade games, you can’t bring that up and then drop the ball with no arcade games.”

 

 _“The first thing I want to do though,” ... “_ is get _the hell out of this bathroom. Or people are really gonna start to talk.”_

 

“If they talk, the official story is you fell in and I had to come pull you out,” it was an attempt at humor, better than Alex bringing up what people would actually say. “And unless Nikolai, assuming he is tracking me, is somehow watching us right now, I doubt anyone would know anyway.”

 

Noticing that Dante was heading for the driver’s seat, Alex inwardly sighed. The last thing he wanted tonight was them crashing and possibly totaling the car or Dante ending up worse for wear in the event of an accident. Just as bad, what if they got pulled over? Alex wasn’t sure how that would go over. ‘Sorry officer, my friend here drank some of my blood, I swear to drunk I’m not God’ was how he imagined that conversation going.

 

The more he thought about it, it had occurred to Alex how much he worried about Dante. It was exceedingly unhealthy, to the point where Alex realized a little time apart was probably a good thing. Besides, he knew Dante was capable of taking care of himself, but that hadn’t stopped Alex from fussing yet. Maybe a day or two wandering around and getting lost in a massive city would give them some breathing room. Alex was almost hoping it’d help him ease up a bit and not spend so much time expecting Dante to toddle off into a coven of vampires in the middle of them executing one of their own.

 

When Dante went to drink his last bottle of Gatorade, Alex tried really hard not to sigh out loud. Really though, it was his own fault for worrying so much. He couldn’t help it this time though, Dante would have been in better shape if Alex hadn’t needed to feed from him. In that moment, Alex felt barely better than the vampires he hunted.

 

_“So, why the sudden urge to see the nightlife?”_

 

“Well, here’s the thing,” Alex started, glancing over at Dante over the top of his Unabomber glasses. “I can’t exactly see the daylife.”

 

~

 

“We don’t have to go to a Phillies game,” Dante shook his head, smiling. “That’s just the kind of shit I wanted to do when I was a kid. I can’t picture you waving a giant red foam finger around anyways.”

 

He realized he was talking about his childhood pipe dreams like he was an old, grizzled pirate, not a 23-year-old still waiting in vain to grow chest hair. In the life of a hunter, statistically speaking he was already at his peak. His kind didn’t exactly have an impressive life expectancy. Inevitably, hunters died at the hands of their prey. If by some miracle they didn’t, they lived to train the next generation, each more sparse than the last.

 

_“...What does it mean then? This is like speaking an entirely different language at times.”_

 

Dante tried to smile too widely as he waved the Netflix-and-chill question off with a shrug. “Eh, I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

 

_“You were still moody when I met you. And I guess you also foiled my plan to have you loosen up and eventually drink yourself into a stupor.”_

 

The hunter grimaced but knew Alex was being kind with his assessment; Dante was still a moody little shit at times and he was painfully aware of that fact. It must be pretty obvious just now, since Alex was essentially grasping at straws for human activities to cheer him up. At least that’s what Dante assumed he was doing... There was literally no other explanation he could think of.

 

“Don’t worry,” he said wryly, “once we get outta this slump you can watch me drink myself stupid. It’ll only take like... three shots. Scout’s honor.” It was an easy promise to make; he knew Alex would regret that experience a lot more than Dante. Be careful what you wish for, and all that.

 

 _“Well, here’s the thing, I can’t exactly see the_ daylife _.”_

 

Dante actually choked on his Gatorade, wiping at the trickle that ran down his chin as he tried to contain his unexpected laughter. “Holy shit, he’s got jokes. Okay.”

 

The vampire’s sudden turn of dry humor and concern was shockingly endearing to the hunter, and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe they’d both just been so stressed out lately, running themselves into the ground hunt after hunt. Maybe it was the fact that even after all this time, he still didn’t know exactly how to react when somebody gave a shit about him. A combination of it all.

 

“So just so I’m clear... you want to go to an arcade bar and eat pizza. With me. Tonight.” It came out sounding like the start of a bad joke, but mostly the hunter wanted to make absolutely certain Alex was being serious. And possibly, to give him the opportunity to retreat if he changed his mind.

 

Honestly...? That didn’t sound like a half-bad night.

 

“I want to watch you play skee-ball,” he volunteered as the thought entered his mind. “I mean don’t think you’re getting into this and you’re just gonna stand there and watch me play games. You are participating.”

 

Even if they didn’t do any of that tonight—following through seemed so ridiculous—the idea of spending a carefree night like normal human beings was alluring. It was a guilty thought like they shouldn’t allow themselves to do something so frivolous and meaningless. But still... a small part of the hunter badly wanted to.

 

Eventually Dante knew he was going to have to start driving. The Gatorade had really done the trick apparently because his vision was blessedly steady now, and only the lingering chill remained to concern him. He had driven just fine while a lot worse off, after all.

 

The hunter threw the car into gear and backed out of the parking space, and by the time they were back on the highway his confidence had returned. With it came a measure of cheer he hadn’t expected. Even just talking about being normal was refreshing, pulling him however briefly out of his own troubled head.

 

~

 

_“We don’t have to go to a Phillies game. That’s just the kind of shit I wanted to do when I was a kid. I can’t picture you waving a giant red foam finger around anyways.”_

 

“I wasn’t really a fan of baseball even when it peaked in popularity,” Alex admitted, knowing he’d probably be bored out of his mind if they went to any sporting event. “Besides, we have more than enough thrills in our line of work, it’d be mundane in comparison.”

 

_“Eh, I’ll tell you when you’re older.”_

 

It was a subtle movement, Alex’s eyes squinted just a fraction of an inch and his lips pressed just a little more firmly together for maybe a second or two. The change was enough for Dante to probably notice that Alex was sort of doing his version of pouting at having information withheld from him. He wasn’t sure what to make of the statement ‘Netflix-and-chill,’ though he was certain by now that the phase was something less than wholesome. After all, he wasn’t born yesterday.

 

“Okay then, keep your secrets,” the vampire replied, making a note not to mention Netflix again until Dante actually told him.

 

_“Don’t worry, once we get outta this slump you can watch me drink myself stupid. It’ll only take like... three shots. Scout’s honor.”_

 

“Three shots isn’t...much,” was the response as Alex gave Dante yet another sidelong glance. Then again, it was easy to say since Alex couldn’t get drunk even if he wanted to try. “Not that I drank much when I was human, Vincent wouldn’t—“ Alex abruptly cut himself off, having not meant to talk about anyone from his human life. “It wasn’t recommended as something I should waste my time doing.”

 

_“Holy shit, he’s got jokes. Okay.”_

 

“You asked,” Alex said with a shrug, taking the unfortunately named glasses off before sticking them into the visor. He then took off the baseball hat and pulled the hood down, feeling a little less Unabomber-ish.

 

_“So just so I’m clear... you want to go to an arcade bar and eat pizza. With me. Tonight.”_

 

“...Yes?” Alex looked at Dante as if they hadn’t been making plans. “Or any night, it doesn’t have to be tonight. What’s that thing kids say these days...’we’re here for a fun time, not a long time?’” Alex tried, frowning. “...Actually, that sounds morbid given the circumstances.”

 

 _“I want to watch you play_ skee-ball _. I mean don’t think you’re getting into this and you’re just gonna stand there and watch me play games. You are participating.”_

 

“If that’s what you want,” Alex sounded unsure. “Remember when we got banned from those casinos out west because I was accused of counting cards?” While Alex was fully capable of actually counting cards, he hadn’t needed to do that. The subtle sounds of a human’s heart beat told him all he needed and he had a notorious poker face as it was. “Would an arcade ban us over an absurdly high skee-ball score?”

 

While Dante drove, Alex allowed himself more time to think. He felt like something, somehow had to change or they’d simply nosedive and it would be their downfall. Still, the call to keep hunting was ever present and Alex doubted anything could ever change that. He did hope maybe, given the lurking fear of his sire returning to do God knows what, that they’d have a chance to feel like ordinary people even for a night or two. That didn’t change the fact that they’d still have to be vigilant and aware of their surroundings.

 

Another thought, and certainly not his motive, was perhaps them seeming to relax a bit would make Nikolai, or whoever, think they were getting sloppy and careless. If that happened, Alex almost hoped their stalker would make a mistake. Then again, if all it did was draw Nikolai into the open, or make him act sooner, Alex wasn’t sure if it was the best idea. In a way, it was a gamble and Alex hated gambling.

 

For a long while, Alex was quiet, then he reached over to turn the radio on, browsing the stations before settling on one he thought Dante might like. Or rather, one with music he’d heard Dante listen to before on their many cross country hunting trips. After hours in a car with someone it wasn’t hard to learn their music taste. Alex himself didn’t have a strong preference, often letting Dante pick because Alex could almost hear all the old man wisecracks aimed at him if he picked.

 

“So, we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to,” Alex said a decent while later. “But finding something normal to do might help with the stress of all of this.”

 

~

 

_“I wasn’t really a fan of baseball even when it peaked in popularity. Besides, we have more than enough thrills in our line of work, it’d be mundane in comparison.”_

 

“Nobody is actually a fan of baseball,” Dante stated, even knowing that definitely wasn’t true. “That’s not why you go. You go to eat crappy food, and cheer really loudly, and take pictures with all your friends and post it on Twitchat. It’s about having the human experience.”

 

Dante had never actually been to so much as a high school game, but the culture of Philadelphia was infectious. Even in the bowels of Saint Andrews, far from the stadium, it had reached out to his teenage imagination like a cloud of team spirit draped over the city. The idea was, he was certain, a lot more alluring than the actual experience would have been. Every little thing had seemed so much better, brighter, larger than life... simply because he wasn’t allowed to touch it.

 

_“Okay then, keep your secrets,”_

 

Dante took an evil satisfaction in watching the vampire pout over the lack of further explanation. The hunter decided to explain it next time they were lounging in some cheap hotel room watching TV. At the very least he hoped to get a reaction out of Alex when he explained they were almost into Netflix-and-chill territory.

 

_“Three shots isn’t...much.”_

 

Dante shrugged in agreement. “Yeah maybe I’m exaggerating slightly... but seriously, it doesn’t take much. Let’s just say that even if you could get wasted, you’d beat me in a drinking contest, hands down.”

_“Not that I drank much when I was human, Vincent wouldn’t—It wasn’t recommended as something I should waste my time doing.”_

 

Dante frowned at the unfamiliar name, not even thinking before he asked, “Vincent?”

 

He should have known better; if the vampire wanted to explain he would. Dante wasn’t a fool. He knew there was plenty Alex kept to himself about his old life. Dante was exactly the same way, although it was less because he didn’t want Alex knowing and more because he did everything in his power to avoid those memories himself. There was only bitterness there, hatred even.

 

Considering that, Dante had made a point not to be pushy, to let the vampire open up to him at his own speed. It was always worth it. Though many of the stories Alex shared weren’t exactly pleasant, Dante truly enjoyed listening to his partner talk about the countless decades he’d spent experiencing history firsthand. He sometimes joked that it was like having a grandpa to tell him war stories but without the bad memory.

 

 _“...Yes? Or any night, it doesn’t have to be tonight. What’s that thing kids say these days..._ ’ _we’re here for a fun time, not a long time?... Actually, that sounds morbid given the circumstances.”_

 

“Uh-uh,” Dante shook his head hard. “No way. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it tonight. No backing out now.“.

 

He said that, but if he got the impression Alex was truly uncomfortable, he’d ease up in a heartbeat. This was all going to be weird enough without dragging along a vampire, kicking and screaming.

 

_“If that’s what you want,” ... “Remember when we got banned from those casinos out west because I was accused of counting cards?”_

 

Dante grinned widely. Little did Alex know, that was one of his favorite memories of his partner. They’d even dressed up for the occasion. The hunter had enjoyed every minute... watching the vampire sit at a blackjack table, surrounded by humans who considered themselves big sharks in a small pond, little knowing a Great White was swimming in their midst. Dante actually had been drinking that night, but had managed to nurse the same martini for hours without arousing suspicion. He was altogether too distracted by the way Alex looked in a pilfered suit, like he was perfectly at ease and completely in control. He cut an imposing figure, the handsome planes of his face thrown into sharp contrast by the shifting and fading lights. The ethereal figure hadn’t exactly gone untouched by the other players either. The hunter caught them staring more than once at the intimidating James Bond they were unfortunate enough to be playing against.

 

Honestly, it was the first time Dante had caught himself admiring his partner in a way that wasn’t quite platonic. Little did he know it was far from being the last.

 

Once upon a time, Dante had cleaned many a barroom table playing Blackjack himself. Hell, he’d relied heavily on it to survive in his early days on his own. After meeting the vampire it didn’t take long to realize that Alex was better at it by a mile, so for now Dante left the hustling to his human lie-detector. It was more fun to watch anyways.

 

They never did find the demon they were trying to sniff out, yet another in a long line of dead ends, but they’d walked away with an obscene amount of cash. Maybe they’d let things cool off enough to try that out again... they sure could use the cash.

 

 _“Would an arcade ban us over an absurdly high_ skee-ball _score?”_

 

“No way,” he finally answered. “At arcades, the attendants don’t get paid enough to care. Score all you want, baby.” He was wildly curious if Alex actually could get a perfect score. The entire idea of an arcade was making him a little too excited, and maybe that was the kid in him peeking out again but he didn’t care.

 

Thinking of pizza—literally the first food that had sounded remotely appetizing to him in weeks—Dante barely noticed when Alex flipped on the radio. The blessedly familiar notes of old school Johnny Cash drifted through the cab, only further serving to lift the human’s mood.

 

_“So, we don’t have to do anything tonight if you don’t want to. But finding something normal to do might help with the stress of all of this.”_

 

Twelve hours ago, Dante would have literally lost his mind over the idea of doing something so useless. He definitely would have cursed. A lot. Now, on the dark highway amidst the glare of headlights, it sounded like the best idea he’d ever heard.

 

“Skee-ball, Alex,” Dante repeated by way of answer, stressing the syllables. “There is nothing on the planet more normal than skee-ball.”

 

Approximately an hour later, thanks to a helpful gas station clerk who couldn’t imagine why he just didn’t google directions, Dante parked on the curb in front of a sprawling single-story building in Beacon. Massive neon-lined letters spelled out “RETRO ARCADE” over the double doors. Dante was out of the car almost before the keys were out, his exhaustion completely forgotten in his excitement.

 

The hunter’s stomach was growling loudly, which somehow made everything that much better. He could smell greasy food and alcohol, but he was really only interested in one of those things. He waited impatiently for Alex to join him on the sidewalk before tossing him the keys. He couldn’t risk losing them, and with them out of his pocket he really could stop worrying about everything for an hour or two.

 

“Come on,” he led the way enthusiastically, “normal people want a coke.”

 

~

 

_“Nobody is actually a fan of baseball. That’s not why you go. You go to eat crappy food, and cheer really loudly, and take pictures with all your friends and post it on Twitchat. It’s about having the human experience.”_

 

Alex got as far as to opening his mouth to respond that there were people who liked baseball, those people just happened to be people other than them. Thinking better of it, and not knowing anyone alive who liked baseball personally, Alex knew it was a losing argument. Instead he listens to all the reasons Dante thought people went to baseball games.

 

“So you like the idea of being loud, socializing, and eating food that’s bad for you?” Alex said, without judgment, just trying to get a better understanding of different things that might appeal to Dante. “Huh, I never thought of it that way but that’s literally the human experience. ...Except the Twitchat thing, I still don’t really get social media.”

 

_“Yeah maybe I’m exaggerating slightly... but seriously, it doesn’t take much. Let’s just say that even if you could get wasted, you’d beat me in a drinking contest, hands down.”_

 

“Speaking of drinking contests...” Alex trailed off, wondering briefly if there were people out there willing to bet money on such things. It wasn’t as if people had to know he was an undead creature incapable of getting intoxicated, no matter how much he drank. “Never mind, it’s a terrible idea,” he said quickly, “I’d much rather just try to break some high score on one of the games.”

 

_“Vincent?”_

 

Alex sighed softly, feeling nostalgic all over again. He wanted to tell Dante everything, but his past was...spotty, at best. A part of him was worried that telling Dante about Vincent would only great dots to connect. Despite being stubborn, moody, and sarcastic, Dante was far from stupid and Alex was worried too many connections would be made. Still, Alex was feeling sentimental and didn’t want his partner to think he didn’t trust him, or worse, make him suspicious.

 

“Vincent was...well...” Alex trailed off in a way that implied the situation was complicated. “I’ve never really mentioned anything about my family, have I?” He concluded, knowing the answer. “I don’t want to ruin the mood now with my tragic superhero backstory, so maybe later?” He offered, glancing over at the hunter.

 

_“Uh-uh. No way. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it tonight. No backing out now."_

 

“You know, I’m so glad you’re on board with this,” Alex commented since originally he expected Dante to drag his heels into having fun. The other night he was certain Dante would have outright refused the idea or called it a waste of time. “I was worried I’d have to find a haunted arcade to get you to go along.”

 

The memories of Vegas were pretty fun, as far as hunting went. Even as a human Alex had been good at cards, he wasn’t a fan of gambling for personal reasons, but he was good at it. It had been another thing Vincent had discouraged, making choices on chance and not hard facts. Vincent had actually been the one to teach Alex how to count cards, ironically. Then again, the irony of it fell away when he reminded Alex that counting was limiting the gamble of the game and took the chance out of it. With all of that said, Alex’s vampirism only seemed to enhance that skill, albeit indirectly.

 

Aside from laundromats, one of Alex’s favorite places to get new clothes was airports. All it took was picking out a man of roughly the same build, following him at a distance, and waiting for him to take his eyes and hands off of his luggage for even a second. The Vegas hunt had been more involved, in terms of the pair of them having to blend in and do a bit of sleuthing. Of course, they couldn’t walk into one of Vegas’ premiere casinos dressed like a pair of vagrants. So the night before stepping foot onto The Strip, Alex went to the airport and spent some time stalking and stealing from a pair of tired looking businessmen who were traveling.

 

For the actual hunt, or rather, playing the part and blending in, Alex had let a bit of his inhumanness show. Typically, when around humans, he’d slouch, slump, lean, shrug, breathe, sigh, blink and do all kinds of little things to keep them from feeling intimidated or uneasy. At the blackjack table however, he didn’t bother, almost satisfied with the reaction he’d gotten from his unsuspecting opponents. The one thing he did conceal were his eyes behind a set of colored contact lenses, as he wanted his opponents intimidated, not terrified. Either way, they hadn’t known what hit them and Alex had walked away with more money than he’d know what to do with, though it was promptly spent on more gear, weapons, and ammunition.

 

_“No way. At arcades, the attendants don’t get paid enough to care. Score all you want, baby.”_

 

Alex wasn’t entirely sure what to make of the term of endearment, but shrug it off. Then again...

 

“If you start calling me that, then people are really going to talk,” Alex said, letting his voice drop a just a bit lower in a teasing kind of way. “In that case, do the games spit out tickets at the end?” He asked, his voice at its normal pitch. He knew how it worked at carnivals when he was a kid, though usually it was a carny who handed you a prize, rather than things to redeem for one. “I don’t think I’ve been to an arcade since the 80s when I was tracking another vampire stalking the place for victims.”

 

_“Skee-ball, Alex. There is nothing on the planet more normal than skee-ball.”_

 

The excitement in Dante’s voice was more than enough to make up for the chaotic last few days. Silently, Alex hoped they could do things like this more often. Not all the time of course, higher callings and all that, but enough for them both to decompress and have some fun. It was also nice to see Dante excited about something, well, something other than discovering something, chasing a lead, or actually killing some creature that had been terrorizing people.

 

_“Come on, normal people want a coke.”_

 

As they pulled up, Alex had twisted around for his satchel, retrieving his contact case. He wanted things to be as normal as possible, at least for Dante’s sake, so he decided he was going to try his best to blend in with the other patrons. When Dante parked, Alex had one lens in and was working on the other as his partner got out of the car like it was on fire. Blinking to let it settle, Alex could make out the faint rings at the edge of his vision, implying the lenses were on his irises fine. Getting out and catching a glimpse of his reflection in the window, he mused on whether the deep blue was the best option, as it usually gave his eyes an indigo/violet hue because of the red underneath.

 

“Oh, I thought normal people weren’t hungry?” Alex quipped, hearing the hunter’s stomach grumble, though he was glad Dante was planning on doing something to up his blood sugar, even if it was a can of sugar water. “I can hear your stomach growling, by the way,” he said as he caught the keys tossed his way.

 

Following Dante inside, Alex silently hoped nothing would go awry here. All he wanted was a simple, normal night of the two of them doing normal things with no spooky badness following them. The inside of the arcade was just how Alex expected it to look. There was certainly a retro feel to it and there were retro games, but Alex wasn’t sure how retro it was supposed to be, because all the neon lights and loud music was modern to him.

 

~

 

_“Speaking of drinking contests... Never mind, it’s a terrible idea, I’d much rather just try to break some high score on one of the games.”_

 

Now that was an idea they hadn’t tested yet, tempting Dante to briefly mull over the possibilities. Finding someone drunk and willing to take that bet would be the only challenge as far as he could tell, and most bars were already crowded with exactly that brand of false bravado and relaxed inhibition. He filed it away for future reference as Alex had already moved on.

 

_“Vincent was...well... I’ve never really mentioned anything about my family, have I? I don’t want to ruin the mood now with my tragic superhero backstory, so maybe later?”_

 

Tragic backstory? Dante blinked at the strange half-explanation but didn’t argue. He knew Alex would tell him when the time was right. Until then, he’d just have to stew in his own curiosity and be patient.

 

“Hey, it’s your backstory after all,” he tried for levity, “you get to decide when to throw in the flashbacks.”

 

_“You know, I’m so glad you’re on board with this. I was worried I’d have to find a haunted arcade to get you to go along.”_

 

“They have those?” That actually sounded like something Dante would enjoy, whether or not he was in a sulky mood.

 

Dante was surprised he was playing along with this idea too, if he was being completely honest. It was probably the way the vampire had brought it up, all fumbling modern jargon and grasping attempts at human normalcy that had done the trick. The human poked fun at his partner for that kind of thing a lot, but he secretly loved it. The smallest things never seemed to get old around Alex.

 

_“If you start calling me that, then people are really going to talk. In that case, do the games spit out tickets at the end? I don’t think I’ve been to an arcade since the 80s when I was tracking another vampire stalking the place for victims.”_

 

“Vampires used to hunt in arcade bars?” Dante was skeptical. “I wouldn’t have guessed they’d enjoy all that Cheeto-flavored nerd blood. Ugh. But yeah, it’s usually tickets. You spend a bunch of money and win a dozen tickets or so, and then you get to redeem them at the end. The scam is you usually only end up with enough for like... an eraser or something.”

 

Later when they finally reached their destination, Dante was almost bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited impatiently for Alex to pop his contacts in.

 

_“Oh, I thought normal people weren’t hungry? I can hear your stomach growling, by the way...”_

 

“Jesus Christ, hurry up Sherlock,” Dante griped without any real venom, “time’s a wastin'.”

 

Dante was originally planning to play it cool, but he could literally feel the grin splitting his face as he stepped inside the old building. The carpets were suspiciously dirty and worn as if they hadn’t been replaced in at least a decade, and the overhead lights were blinking, or burned out altogether. The glaring neon from dozens of crowded games was enough to make up for it and then some. The music was turned up a touch too loud considering there weren’t many people in there, but Dante couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that at the moment.

 

Knowing his partner was following him, Dante stopped at the bar and emptied out his pocket change. He had enough for a large coke and about two dozen game tokens. That seemed like a pretty good start. On the extremely rare occasions he’d snuck into the arcade bar two blocks down from the church as a child, he’d had to make do with what he could scavenge.

 

Started from the bottom, now we here.

 

Massive plastic cup in hand,Dante turned to survey their surroundings. His eyes lit up as he recognized a wall with a projector where several teenagers were playing Mario Kart, a variety of zombie hunting games, and an entire wall of pinball machines.

 

“X-men!” Dante exclaimed with more enthusiasm than the situation warranted, almost running to the massive game in the center of a sprawling bank. “Holy shit...”

 

The game was an early 90’s era, heavily pixelated side-scroller with three buttons and a colored joystick for each of the six possible characters. Nothing about it was impressive, but that really didn’t matter to the human at this point. He’d already forgotten about getting pizza, this was far more important.

 

“I played this for like five hours straight one time before my dad finally found me,” Dante gushed, admiring the beat-up machine like he would a classic car.

 

Oddly enough, he remembered it as one of the happiest days of his life. For a single, perfect day, he hadn’t been worried about a thing except getting caught... which of course he was eventually. Until then he’d spent the entire afternoon scrounging up dropped game tokens, and had even swiped his first beer that night. He’d hated it. Maybe that was why he still couldn’t stomach anything but hard liquor, and even then only barely.

 

“I always play as Cyclops,” Dante explained as he slotted tokens into the machine, not really caring if Alex was paying attention. “He’s a tactical genius. Or Colossus if the buttons are broke.” He chose Nightcrawler for Alex with a grin.

 

“Get it?” He gestured to the name under the character’s portrait, proud of his own joke. The hunter carefully explained the controls, treating it with all the calculated care he would put into planning an actual hunt.

 

By the time they were finished, Dante’s coke was watery with melted ice and the arcade had grown significantly more crowded around them.

 

“You liked it, right?” He nudged Alex with his elbow, grinning like an idiot. “It’s almost like having superpowers and smashing up robots is therapeutic or something.” He looked around them for their next target. “Okay. Your turn to pick the next one.”

 

~

 

With how things had been difficult for the both of them for the past few years, the idea of finding alternative ways to fund their exploits made sense to Alex. To him it didn’t really matter if they resorted to somewhat underhanded tactics, as it was, they’d already stolen plenty of things to get by for the last four years. Cheating in bets and at cards was hardly different in that regard. Right then it was just a vague idea Alex was mulling over in his head, working the kinks out of as they headed inside of the arcade.

 

The vampire had been speaking a bit sardonically about his backstory being tragic. Sure, plenty of bad things happened before Nikolai, but it wasn’t all bad all the time. Bits and pieces of it were painful and as time passed even the happy memories hurt to think about. Overall, it wasn’t the worst life he could have lived, evil deeds aside, he was disgruntled over it having been cut short in the way that it had been.

 

“I...” Alex trailed off, not looking at Dante and thinking of just how to respond. He wanted Dante to know him, as a human, who he’d been and at the same time he didn’t. A part of Alex hoped Dante would accept him regardless and understand why what they did was important to him. Another part feared Dante would want nothing to do with him.

 

“Thank you,” the vampire said after a moment, leaving it at that.

 

_“They have those?”_

 

“I don’t actually know, I was speaking hypothetically,” Alex replied, trying to think if he’d ever even heard of a haunted arcade. “I’ve heard of haunted bars, houses, and even shopping malls, but I don’t know if I’ve ever heard of a haunted arcade. ...Then again, I’m not really in a position to perform an exorcism.”

 

_“Vampires used to hunt in arcade bars? I wouldn’t have guessed they’d enjoy all that Cheeto-flavored nerd blood. Ugh.”_

 

“A single vampire, either an accident or a rogue one,” Alex clarified, recalling the incident from several decades before. “I think he’d frequented the place when he was alive and hung out there. I don’t entirely know his life story, as I didn’t exactly sit down and talk to him or anything. From what I did gather, I knew he wasn’t apart of any coven, at least not a strong one. It was also extremely sloppy with his feeding and if I hadn’t killed him either a nearby coven or human hunters would have. So really, I did both sides a favor.”

 

_“But yeah, it’s usually tickets. You spend a bunch of money and win a dozen tickets or so, and then you get to redeem them at the end. The scam is you usually only end up with enough for like... an eraser or something.”_

 

“That seems...like a terrible trade-off,” Alex said, realizing one could dump loads of money into tokens and games and come out with junk in exchange. “I guess the only real reason to play these games is for fun then, otherwise it’s really piss poor gambling,” the vampire commented, dryly.

 

_“Jesus Christ, hurry up Sherlock, time’s a wastin'.”_

 

“Give me a moment,” Alex said, his tone once again dry, “I’m old, remember?”

 

Dante was far from playing it cool from what Alex could tell, but this had kind of been his goal. Well, not necessarily making Dante bouncing around like an excited kid, but finding something the human would enjoy doing to take his mind off of things. So far, so good, and he even seemed to be doing better after having a decent amount of blood drained from him.

 

When Alex had looked around, he’d made a point to keep all of his senses alert. He wanted to be sure nothing was amiss because the last thing he needed was for something to ruin the mood. The only thing Alex could smell was pizza, the aged carpeting and all the smells it held from spilled drinks, bodily fluids, and things tracked in from outside. Oh, and a few sweaty humans, though that was easy to ignore given how few there were when they walked inside. In terms of what he could hear, everything was drowned out by the too loud music and Alex had to raise his voice a bit just to be heard over it. Right then, he almost regretted not bringing earplugs.

 

Alex wasn’t far behind when Dante went to buy his coke and the tokens. It wasn’t much, but it was enough it seemed. The vampire still had forty dollars and theoretically could get more, but didn’t want them to get thrown out for doing illegal things. He supposed, once Dante got his fill of games, Alex could try to get him to sit down and eat some of the pizza that had been agreed upon.

 

When Dante wasn’t looking, Alex felt himself almost lazily smiling. From what he knew of Dante, it sounded like he hadn’t had much of a childhood. Or at least, not the freedom to do things other children got to do while growing up. Seeing him so giddy over a couple of arcade games was more than Alex had hoped for in this excursion. Not to mention, Alex himself wasn’t even dwelling on the events of the last 48 hours.

 

As Dante looked around at all the options for games, Alex also took note of the various options. The zombie hunting games caught his eye, mostly because they’d be comically easy for two people whose lives depend on having good aim and a quick trigger finger. Tucked on the far side of the arcade, Alex could make out people playing skee-ball, but it seemed Dante had found something that interested him more.

 

_“X-men! Holy shit...”_

 

At the mention of X-Men, Alex had only snippets of information. They were another thing that happened after his time and for the most part, all he knew were they were comic book characters. The game itself looked a little more recent, though clearly a bit older, possibly older than the carpeting. Still, it made Dante excited and happy, so Alex followed along and observed as Dante explained how to play.

 

_“I played this for like five hours straight one time before my dad finally found me.”_

 

Inwardly, Alex winced at the thought of Dante having to sneak off to do something as harmless as play video games as a kid. That would have been like if Alex and all the kids he grew up with were locked inside and prevented from running amok around the neighborhood from the early morning until the last rays of sunlight fell below the horizon. All things considered, video games seemed much less dangerous or mischievous than what Alex and kids of old got up to without parental supervision.

 

_“I always play as Cyclops. He’s a tactical genius. Or Colossus if the buttons are broke.” ... “Get it?”_

 

Despite not being too concerned about the X-Men, Alex was listening and nodding a little when Dante explained things. When Dante chose Nightcrawler for Alex, the joke wasn’t lost on the vampire who sighed a little, though the quirk at the corners of his lips implied he thought it was kind of humorous. Once they started playing, Alex found the game wasn’t complicated. That being said, he didn’t expect to be great at it as the buttons and joysticks were a bit foreign to him, as was the concept of the side-scrolling screen.

 

_“You liked it, right? It’s almost like having superpowers and smashing up robots is therapeutic or something. Okay. Your turn to pick the next one.”_

 

“I mean,” Alex said with a pause, “I kind of know what having superpowers is like, sort of,” he shrugged, not really being able to compare himself to people who didn’t have to drink blood to survive. “But you’re right, there’s something therapeutic about it.”

 

With his options open, Alex looked around the room again. Skee-ball was still on the table, but the zombie hunting games looked pretty interesting. Looking pensive a moment longer, Alex decided shooting something, rather than stabbing something, would be a nice change of pace.

 

“I’m kind of interested in the zombie games,” Alex said finally, knowing there were several options for that particular genre. Having never met a zombie before, Alex was pretty confident they were purely fiction, or at least, the rotting legions bringing about the end of the world were fiction. In a way, it was just another thing he regretted not asking Nikolai about when he’d had the chance.

 

“Shooting things can be therapeutic also,” he noted, already heading towards one of the newer looking zombie games that didn’t have any sweaty nerds playing it. “...I’ve been kind of thinking of maybe replacing my old gun, actually. It’d be nice to be able to eliminate targets from a distance, rather than getting up close and personal enough to bite something we’re hunting. To date, werewolf blood is the worst type of blood I’ve ever tasted.”

 

~

 

Watching Alex try his hand at video games was possibly one of the most satisfying experiences of Dante’s short life so far. Even dressed in the clothing of the 21st century, it was clear he was still a man out of time, mostly unfamiliar with the modern technology that had all but taken over the world around them. It was possibly the one thing Dante had up on the vampire, and he was sure that wouldn’t last long either if Alex actually put any effort into it. In the meantime, being a spectator to the Alex-vs-everything show was pretty damn entertaining.

 

_“I mean, I kind of know what having superpowers is like, sort of. But you’re right, there’s something therapeutic about it.”_

 

“Yeah yeah, rub it in,” Dante smiled, “let me know when you figure out how to teleport, Nightcrawler.”

 

There wasn’t a day that went by that he wasn’t reminded all too clearly of Alex’s “superpowers.” While it had once chafed at his pride that Alex was so much stronger and faster, more agile and alert... a better hunter than he could ever dream of being, now it was something he had come to terms with. In fact he had come to admire Alex all the more for it, even if that was a sentiment he didn’t know how to express properly. He knew the vampire viewed his enhanced senses as the flipside of his thirst for blood. A blessing and a curse.

 

_“I’m kind of interested in the zombie games... Shooting things can be therapeutic also.”_

 

“Fuck yes,” Dante agreed emphatically, following his partner and making a beeline for the zombie games, “I like where your head is at. No better therapy than violence, right?”

 

Although if that was truly the case, neither of them should ever need another minute of therapy in their lives.

_“...I’ve been kind of thinking of maybe replacing my old gun, actually. It’d be nice to be able to eliminate targets from a distance, rather than getting up close and personal enough to bite something we’re hunting. To date, werewolf blood is the worst type of blood I’ve ever tasted.”_

 

“Still can’t believe you actually bit him,” Dante mumbled, distracted as he inspected the plastic guns attached to the machine by thick cords, “I mean... surely that wasn’t exactly a last resort kinda moment...” He was already trying to come up with ideas to use that particular gem in later jabs.

 

“But before we upgrade our guns?” Dante gave an experimental whack to the plastic magazine, apparently meant to represent a reload. “We need to be able to afford ammo. Or at least, I need to scavenge enough shit together to make some.”

 

Dante thought of the small arsenal of firearms at the bottom of their largest pelican case. An old hunting rifle. Two sawed-off .12 gauge shotguns, long gone dusty. Several nearly-disposable compact Glocks and a beat-up Desert Eagle. Dante wasn’t as accurate with that one, and therefore rarely used it, preferring to rely on a handful of revolvers in varying calibers. The sad truth was that acquiring guns wasn’t necessarily the challenge for them, collecting enough rounds to be useful was. And all told, normal ammunition just didn’t cut it against most of the foes they faced.

 

“Silver, holy water, powder and primer, brass casings...” Dante rattled off his mental shopping list as he crouched and counted out tokens into the game. A passing human holding a beer gave him a strange look. Dante smiled awkwardly, waved once, and waited for him to keep walking.

 

“So yeah, we’ve got our list.” Dante stood and handed a neon green plastic gun to his partner, taking immense pleasure in how ridiculous he looked holding it. “Now what kinda gun did you have in mind?”

 

Left-handed, Dante was immensely glad he hadn’t let the vampire feed from his dominant arm as he shouldered the plastic gun and they started playing the overly-gory game. His right arm was already beginning to ache, and he hadn’t even had to use it much. While the initial energy of the crowded clown-house they found themselves in had been overwhelming, he was really starting to feel the stress of the day’s events. Even so, the least he could do was try to enjoy himself as long as possible. He knew this entire escapade meant a lot to Alex, as did the fact that Dante really was having fun. The vampire wasn’t nearly as hard to read as he thought he was.

 

“Zombies are fake, right?” He found himself asking abruptly as they passed the first level with ease. “They’re just urban legend, a catalyst for mass hysteria... Like there’s no way, is there?” If past experience was any guide, it was dangerous to assume something didn’t exist just because they hadn’t encountered it yet.

 

~

 

_“Yeah yeah, rub it in, let me know when you figure out how to teleport, Nightcrawler.”_

 

“You never know, anything’s possible,” Alex retorted with a little shrug. “I’m sure there’s a spell or something out there that essentially does just that, or at least opens portals between two places.”

 

There were times when Alex was hyper-aware of just how of synch he felt with everyone and everything around him. On one hand, he viewed some modern things with awe and fascination, as if he were a time traveler amazed by innovations of the future. Other times, he felt very much like an old man who had lived too long and was severely out of touch. Certain things, like the video games they were playing now, interested him, while social media was an odd, foreign, and vapid concept to him.

 

Even with all the benefits undeath lent him, Alex would have traded it all to be human again. Granted, he knew it was a pipe dream, he was for all intents and purposes dead but existed as some bastardized, twisted mimicry of life. Returning to true life, to his knowledge, was an impossibility. According to Nikolai, humans in ages past had at one point or another tried to find a ‘cure’ for their loved ones who had turned. Of course, the story devolved into gruesome tales of vampires having melted silver poured down their throats, drowned in holy water, and crucified out in the sun on the vague chance it might return them to live. Of course, all those things killed vampires, but Nikolai was giving him a lesson of how humans discovered their weaknesses while nailing shut the coffin on Alex’s desire to go back. The only way out was dying.

 

_“Fuck yes, I like where your head is at. No better therapy than violence, right?”_

 

Honestly, Alex was sure beyond the point of help as far as therapy went. Alex himself was sure he was too far gone before Nikolai stepped into his life and took it from him. For the time being, however, he was content with stabbing evil things to death as a form of solace. In a way, the codependent relationship he had with Dante was a form of therapy in of itself. Decades of being alone had taken their toll on him and being able to form a bond with someone who had some idea of what it was like brought him some peace.

 

“Isn’t it the only form of therapy available to us?” Alex mused out loud, shaking his head a little, reminding himself to not say morbid things

 

_“Still can’t believe you actually bit him, I mean... surely that wasn’t exactly a last resort kinda moment...”_

 

“To be fair, he almost took my face off,” Alex said with a shrug, “at least the cabin was dark, I can’t imagine how that would have looked if he had because I’m pretty sure that would have taken a good few minutes to heal.”

 

_“But before we upgrade our guns? We need to be able to afford ammo. Or at least, I need to scavenge enough shit together to make some.”_

 

“Sounds like we have our work cut out for us when we get to New York,” Alex commented, knowing full well he wouldn’t get any major upgrades until they had their necessities and the basics squared away.

 

_“Silver, holy water, powder and primer, brass casings...”_

 

“It’s a good thing the average human is borderline deaf in this day and age,” Alex mused, knowing human hearing wasn’t as great to begin with and to top it all off the majority were slowly damaging their ears on purpose. “Eavesdropping people might think we need therapy,” he added, dryly.

 

 _“So yeah, we’ve got our list._ Now _what kinda gun did you have in mind?”_

 

“...Well,” Alex examined the absurd looking green gun he was holding. “I was hoping for something new at least, but that’s not nearly as important as the rest of what’s on our list...” Trailing off, Alex knew he was holding back and he knew Dante could probably tell. “But really, it’s fine, I can make do with anything we pick up,” he added, not wanting to outright say he wanted to try out some of the flasher things that had been developed in recent years. “I mean, I don’t even know what we’d even do with a long range sniper rifle.”

 

As silly as he probably looked holding the plastic gun, the goal of the game was something familiar. Despite the plastic gun not holding the real weight and feel of an actual firearm, the basic idea of shooting and shooting well was still there. As absurd as it all was, Alex found himself amused by the game, despite how easy it was for him and Dante to pass the first level. The question Dante posed after they beat the first level left Alex a bit uncertain how to answer. It wasn’t often that Alex was left without an answer to give on matters like this, but right then the silence was telling.

 

_“Zombies are fake, right? They’re just urban legend, a catalyst for mass hysteria... Like there’s no way, is there?”_

 

“That’s a good question,” Alex said automatically. “Nikolai never said anything about them and beyond that I’ve only ever heard rumors,” he clarified a bit more.

 

Most of everything Alex knew of their world was what he’d learned from Nikolai. In life, Alex had been ignorant of anything unexplainable or unnatural and had been dismissive towards anything remotely spiritual. Of course, that ultimately lead to his current state of unlife, but that was neither here nor there. All he knew was that his sire had never felt the need to tell him about other types of undead beings and Alex had never encountered one personally, to his knowledge.

 

“It’s something we can always look into since we’re already researching shielding when we get to the city,” he supplied, hoping to alleviate any curiously Dante might have on the subject. “Though I’m not sure how exciting hunting zombies might be compared to this game.”

 

As the second round started, Alex was left wondering. Nikolai had left him with the impression that death was the end and that was all, there was no going back. Still, the feeling gnawed at him, the question of what if just didn’t want to go away. If zombies were real, and people who could raise the dead existed, then who was to say Alex’s condition was permanent? Shaking his head, Alex tried to banish the thoughts. There was no point in longing for something he could never have again, or getting worked up over rumors of witch doctors and what not.

 

In his musings, Alex had gotten distracted and a little sloppy with his shooting. They still beat the round easily, but Alex hadn’t scored nearly as well as he would have if his head was in the game. Once again, Alex reminded himself they were supposed to be doing normal things and not fussing over their work, but at this point Alex doubted either of them could ever truely put hunting out of their minds.

 

“So...do you still want that pizza?” Alex asked as they entered the third round of the game. “We have hours before sunrise, so no rush obviously.”

 

While he didn’t outright say it, Alex felt nervous again and he couldn’t explain why. Sure, he wasn’t necessarily a fan of loud, bright, and crowded spaces, but he felt eyes on him. Then again, it wasn’t so strange, whenever they had reason to venture out and do normal human things, Alex had always felt eyes on him. It wasn’t arrogance, but Alex was well aware he stood out in a crowd and right then he was certain at least two different humans had been gawking at him the entire time.

 

“So don’t look or anything,” he began, “but there’s a guy at the bar watching us and a girl in that group by the air hockey table watching.”

 

Even as the words left his mouth, Alex knew he probably sounded paranoid. After all, it wasn’t as if everything and everyone was out to get them. As far as any normal person was concerned, the two Alex pointed out were just interested in watching some Netflix, not plotting their demise. In this case, the guy at the bar seemed relatively normal, albeit he was one of those weirdos wearing sunglasses inside. Meanwhile, the girl was in a co-ed group of college kids, clearly celebrating something pertaining to school.

 

~

 

_“...Well, I was hoping for something new at least, but that’s not nearly as important as the rest of what’s on our list... But really, it’s fine, I can make do with anything we pick up. I mean, I don’t even know what we’d even do with a long range sniper rifle.”_

 

“Forget sniper rifles. We’ll find you something perfect,” Dante already had a few pieces in mind, if he could get his hands on one of them. As far as he was concerned, the vampire was far overdue for an upgrade. “Do you want a revolver, like mine? Or a semi-auto?” The gears were already turning.

 

_“It’s something we can always look into since we’re already researching shielding when we get to the city, though I’m not sure how exciting hunting zombies might be compared to this game.”_

 

“Let’s hope if we ever do meet them, they aren’t nearly this exciting,” Dante took careful aim at a lumbering zombie head, growling in frustration when the aiming system threw his next three shots off target. Talk about a rip-off.

 

_“So...do you still want that pizza? We have hours before sunrise, so no rush obviously.”_

 

The word was enough to remind Dante that yes, he was in fact starving, and yes, pizza sounded like a four-course meal fit for a king.

 

“Pretty sure I could eat an entire pizza by myself right about now,” Dante grinned, even if it was an exaggeration. “I’ll get to it.”

 

_“So don’t look or anything, but there’s a guy at the bar watching us and a girl in that group by the air hockey table watching.”_

 

Dante felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle, standing up at Alex’s words. He felt foolish for a brief moment, that he might have allowed himself to become so distracted and wrapped up in frivolous activities that he had ignored a possible threat.

 

Dante took advantage as their screen faded to black, signaling a change in level, to seek out the bar behind him in the reflection of the screen. It was easy enough to pick out the man sitting at the bar. A shadow of blurry facial hair shaded his jawline and dark sunglasses covered his eyes. Seeing him, nondescript and casually concealed, Dante couldn’t blame the vampire for his suspicions. A brief turn of his head was enough to spot the other one, the scantily-clad girl by the hockey table.

 

“So?” Dante tried to make light of a now-tense situation, his senses attuned more to the crowd around them now than to the game itself, “which one’s more your type?”

 

Despite his constant jokes, Dante was truly a little curious. 119 years was a long time, full of endless options and possibilities, yet he’d never heard Alex mention any suitors. From either his living or undead life. Unless he had mentioned them, and just left out the juicy details.

 

“This is gonna sound crazy,” Dante lowered his voice, now barely whispering, “but I do feel like something is watching us. I just don’t know if it’s either of those two.” He cast a sideways glance at his partner, doing a quick up-and-down with his eyes. “At least not for the reasons you’re thinking.” Despite any attempts to disguise it, Alex was a bonfire in a room full of flickering matches. Dante had the feeling he’d been that way in his human life too, even if he had no idea.

 

In another time, another life... Dante would have stared at Alex from across a bar too. Maybe he would have been the kind of person, in that other life, to stare and wonder and nurse a drink while his imagination wandered. Or maybe he would have been the kind brave enough to walk over, to make a cynical joke, run a hand down his arm. A world of possibilities. A world Dante would never live in.

 

A loud, disappointed squawking sound erupted from the machine in front of him, making Dante jump. Apparently, while they’d been distracted, he’d been eaten by zombies.

 

“Well that’s embarrassing,” the human sighed, shoving his plastic gun into the metal stand. “Thought for sure we’d make it further than that.”

 

On a positive note, ending the game gave him a good excuse to turn around and search the room with his eyes, never lingering in one place for too long. The sense of eyes upon him was overwhelming now, and yet he couldn’t find a single soul making eye contact in more than passing.

 

“Not as strong this time,” he mumbled as he started to slowly push through the ever-thickening crowd, “but it’s there. Something watching.”

 

He made for the bar, brushing past the figure in sunglasses to get a closer look. Nothing too out of the ordinary, except that the guy was drinking some eight-dollar artisan beer and wearing too much cologne. Snob.

 

Dante found them a corner where the bar wrapped around towards the wall, a casually strategic position. He hopped onto a stool and slouched against the bar, grabbing a handful of peanuts out of a greasy bowl. He waited for Alex to join him before leaning over the countertop and waving down an apron-clad bartender. He ordered a pizza, happy to be hungry for once, and pressed his back against the wall. Probably a bad idea—god only knew what kind of germs and diseases decades of abuse had left there—but it was too late now.

 

He wasn’t as concerned this time, which was odd. There wasn’t the same threatening presence or the overwhelming sense of dread as there had been the night before. Just the tickling sensation of being stared at. Like catching someone watching you out of the corner of your eye, only for them to turn away right as you looked at them.

 

~

 

_“Forget sniper rifles. We’ll find you something perfect. Do you want a revolver, like mine? Or a semi-auto?”_

 

Alex felt his lips pull upward just a little, it was endearing in a way, how Dante was ready to find something Alex would like better than what they already had. However, for the most part, he was glad Dante didn’t seem to question why a vampire who normally fought close range wanted a gun capable of picking off enemies from greater distances than they strictly needed. Nostalgia was part of it, a longing for some connection to Alex’s old life, despite all of its many downs and few ups.

 

“I think I’d prefer a revolver,” Alex said simply, not opposed to a semi-automatic, but figuring going Rambo on a bunch of paranormal creatures just wasn’t him. “As entertaining as a semi-auto would be, it feels a little too...” he gestured vaguely, unsure how to explain it. “A little too much, I can aim just fine, so I don’t need bandoliers of bullets or a gun that propels hundreds of them in seconds,” he added, exaggerating a little.

 

_“Let’s hope if we ever do meet them, they aren’t nearly this exciting,”_

 

Based on how well they were doing with a shoddy zombie hunting game, Alex was confident in their shared capabilities with dealing with legions of the undead. Still, the entire concept left Alex almost eager to dig until they found a lead to find out more, though for him it wasn’t necessarily just zombies he was interested in learning about. Another part of him was curious about the very idea of necromancy, but he wasn’t about to admit that to anyone, not even himself completely.

 

_“Pretty sure I could eat an entire pizza by myself right about now, I’ll get to it.”_

 

For once, Alex was satisfied he didn’t have to poke and prod until Dante ate enough. If the hunter would actually sat down and ate an entire pizza alone, the vampire was pretty sure he wouldn’t mention Dante not eating for a while.

 

***

 

Alex hadn’t gotten any major danger feelings, certainly nothing as close to the feeling of foreboding and terror the other night. The other night, he’d have expected Nikolai or something worse to spring out and drag him off into some abyss, or worse go after Dante while Alex was away. Right now though, it was like being stared at, though not the being stared at he was used to experiencing.

 

Out of a room full of people who at one point or another had snuck a glance at the pair of them, the heaviest stares came from the two individuals Alex pointed out. Still, he couldn’t accurately claim the being watched feeling was coming from them specifically. Then again, between the two, the girl fit the atmosphere of drunken college kids out for a night. The man at the bar seemed almost out of place, like he would have rather been in some upscale hipster bar or a Starbucks. On top of that, the girl was with a group and the man was at the bar, alone.

 

_“So? Which one’s more your type?” ... “This is gonna sound crazy, but I do feel like something is watching us. I just don’t know if it’s either of those two.”_

 

“She’s just an ordinary college kid, that guy might be...actually, he’s giving me really strong serial killer vibes,” Alex said, not looking at either of the humans he was talking about. “And you’re probably right about that feeling not being from those two,” he stated, deflecting actually answering the question of his type.

 

At this point, with both of them being so involved in their work and staying alive(ish), Alex doubted Dante wanted to hear all the ‘juicy details’ of Alex’s sexual history. Really, Alex couldn’t imagine a decent time to talk about what team he played for, whether he was a catcher, a pitcher, or both, or anything like that. He could only imagine the looks if he brought something like that up out of the blue. Still, if Dante were still curious about it and pushed a little, Alex might toss him a bone.

 

_“At least not for the reasons you’re thinking.”_

 

“Oh, what reasons then?” Alex asked, playing just a little bit coy, despite knowing well enough why people stared at him. If Alex were to take a guess, the reasons were probably the same reasons Vincent kept him around even when it was inconvenient to them both, or why David had been pining until it ended their friendship, and worst of all, he was certain that was what drew Nikolai to him. “I don’t have anything in my teeth, do I?”

 

_“Well that’s embarrassing, Thought for sure we’d make it further than that.”_

 

“See, this is why you shouldn’t help me try to understand human attraction when we’re killing zombies,” Alex said, just a hint of teasing in his tone. “I’m sure we’d do better with the real thing, and real guns,” he emphasized by sticking the ugly green plastic gun back into its stand.

 

_“Not as strong this time, but it’s there. Something watching.”_

 

“Do you think maybe someone is able to track and watch us?” Alex mused aloud, but softly enough that only Dante could hear over the music. “Or maybe however they’re watching us is how they track us...”

 

When the pair passed the guy in the sunglasses, Alex’s nose wrinkled just a bit. The cologne was strong, certainly, but the underlying smell of bleach, and below that, blood, made him clench his jaw. Something was off about the guy, but Alex doubted he had anything to do with what was following them.

 

While Dante went for the peanuts and ordered a pizza, Alex was contemplating what to do about a potentially predatory human lurking amongst a herd of drunken, twenty-something sheep. The girl who had been watching earlier had since caught the interest of one of her group and the pair were chattering, which left Alex aware of only one set of human eyes on his back as he faced Dante. Despite that, Alex felt as if something else was still watching them.

 

“I wasn’t entirely joking about the serial killer vibe,” Alex intoned softly when they took their seats at the bar. “I bet if I pretend to get really drunk and stumble around in the parking lot alone he’d try to toss me into one of those white vans pedophiles drive,” it was a morbid thought, but not the first time Alex had lured in a fish, only to demonstrate there’s always a bigger fish. “Anyway, that aside, I really want to know how we’re being watched by...well, presumably Nikolai, because I can’t imagine anyone else spending this much time gawking at us.”

 

As if on cue, the bartender came over and placed a shot glass filled with an amber colored liquid inside of it in front of Alex. Quirking a brow as if to say ‘ _I didn’t order this_ ’ the bartender shrugged, then jerked a thumb over towards the pretentious sunglasses guy.

 

“So, I guess I have a not so secret admirer,” Alex commented, not sure how Dante might feel about all of this. Taking the drink and knowing it’d do nothing to him, Alex placed the glass to his lips and tipping his head back, downing the entire thing easily. “He’s bold, considering I’m sitting at the bar with someone alrea—” before Alex could finish his sentence, another shot glass was placed in front of him, he shot the bartender an incredulous look.

 

“Hey, not my idea, he said put it all on his tab,” the bartender said then went back to bartending, while Alex sighed.

 

“I guess this is happening now, he didn’t even ask for my ID, which I don’t have,” Alex said, downing the second glass, knowing he’d have to start slurring and things after another or two to keep up appearances. “There really is never a dull moment, is there?”

 

~

 

_“Do you think maybe someone is able to track and watch us? Or maybe however they’re watching us is how they track us...”_

 

“I think that’s the only plausible explanation at the moment...” Dante mumbled back around a mouthful of peanuts. “The question is how. It’s nothing we’ve ever seen before.”

 

_“I wasn’t entirely joking about the serial killer vibe... I bet if I pretend to get really drunk and stumble around in the parking lot alone he’d try to toss me into one of those white vans pedophiles drive...”_

 

Dante felt inexplicably anxious at the idea of anyone trying to pull Alex into a van, as ridiculous as it was to think any human could actually hurt the vampire. It wasn’t even the first time they’d lured in a predator that way.

 

_“Anyway, that aside, I really want to know how we’re being watched by...well, presumably Nikolai, because I can’t imagine anyone else spending this much time gawking at us.”_

 

That was a question Dante had been pondering himself. “I can only assume it’s gotta be some kinda witch. Doesn’t feel like a demon. And there’s so much we don’t know about witches, what powers they might be capable of if they’re not abiding by the rules.” Apparently, witches were big on rules from what little he knew.

 

The human didn’t get a chance to continue his musings.

 

Dante watched incredulously as the shot appeared in front of Alex, his eyebrows raised. Besides that, he was working overtime to control his facial expressions because shit, this feeling was new. Well, maybe not quite new... but stronger. The same post-blood-loss hypersensitivity that had allowed him to actually enjoy playing video games was now sparking a wicked fire of jealousy in his gut, strong enough to make his ears ring.

 

_“So, I guess I have a not so secret admirer,” “He’s bold, considering I’m sitting at the bar with someone alrea—”_

 

“The fucking nerve,” Dante agreed wholeheartedly with Alex. Bold was an understatement.

 

By the time the second shot appeared Dante knew he was in trouble. He could feel a real anger starting to spread through him like a poison. For some reason, watching Alex actually accept and then down the shots like they were water made everything worse.

 

_“I guess this is happening now, he didn’t even ask for my ID, which I don’t have... There really is never a dull moment, is there?”_

 

“You know what... I’ll take one of those,” Dante told the bartender on a whim, knowing he definitely wasn’t thinking clearly on this but unable to control himself. He needed a distraction, stat. Immediately, the man demanded his ID. “You didn’t ask for his ID,” the hunter protested half-heartedly even as he slipped one of his many fake licenses out of his wallet.

 

When his own shot appeared, Dante turned away from Alex before throwing it back. Partly because he didn’t want to reveal the grimace that crossed his face at the acrid taste as it burned down his throat... and partly because he just didn’t want to look at him right now.

 

The hunter did throw a glance over his shoulder at the sunglass-wearing douchebag at the bar. Yeah, that didn’t help either.

 

“Yup, he’s definitely a serial killer,” Dante growled under his breath.

 

The pizza suddenly didn’t sound all that appetizing, Dante decided.

 

“I’m gonna hit the head,” the hunter said tightly, “enjoy your date.” He meant it to sound like a joke, but in his head it just sounded immature and shit he really needed to pull himself together.

 

Before he was forced to interact any further, Dante took off for the back corner of the building where the bathroom signs hung from the ceiling. Unfortunately, the walk wasn’t quite long enough for him to clear his head.

 

Dante locked himself into a cramped stall, all chipped wood and sharpie-strewn walls. Bracing his forearm against the door to avoid skin contact, he dropped his forehead onto his arm and forced himself to take in a deep breath through his nose. He was worried he might actually throw up, and figured being near a toilet might be for the best in case that actually happened.

 

“Get your shit together, Dante,” he breathed to himself, his mind racing. He knew he wasn’t exactly in possession of his full range of emotions right now, but knowing that didn’t help. He was truly at a loss for how to bring himself back down, to logic and rationale and clear thinking.

 

This wasn’t the usual, 'I took my hot friend to the bar and he got hit on and I didn’t so poor me' situation. Dante reacted about as well to flirtation as a cat reacted to water. It was so much worse than that, more shameful. He wasn’t jealous of Alex. No... He was jealous of any guy, girl, or creature brave enough to hit on Alex.

 

Dante paced the tiny stall, biting his lip to contain the anger and frustration and despair threatening to explode out of him like a geyser erupting. His left hand dug into his right arm, squeezing to the point of agony on the small wound left there by Alex only a few short hours ago. The pain was grounding.

 

Dante leaned over the grimy toilet and tried to throw up, but only brought up saliva. Whatever alcohol he’d been stupid enough to drink wasn’t getting along with his empty stomach whatsoever, but apparently his body wasn’t ready to vomit yet either.

 

“Fuck...” Dante hissed to himself, wiping his mouth. He didn’t feel much calmer, but knew he couldn’t exactly hide in the bathroom all night. One way or another he was going to have to suck it up.

 

A rustling sound from the floor below him was a momentary distraction, and he looked downwards. He cursed as a rat ran across his boot, squeaking in terror and scampering off into the shadows.

 

“Jesus fuck...” the hunter pressed a hand flat against his chest, feeling his heart knocking against his ribcage. Now he was just being paranoid.

 

Dante opened the stall door with a sigh, but his heart nearly stopped in his tracks as he came face-to-face with a man standing outside the stall, mere inches away. The hunter started, wondering how many jump-scares he was going to face before making it out of the damn bathroom.

 

For a moment the hunter’s brain was short-circuited by the strange encounter, and he simply stared at the person in front of him. At first glance at least, he was a human male, in his twenties probably, with red hair and shockingly unblemished skin. His eyes looked distant and far-away, as if he wasn’t even seeing Dante at all.

 

“Can I help you?” Dante snapped sourly when it became clear the weirdo wasn’t going to say anything.

 

The man stared. He just stood there, unmoving.

 

“Okay. Get your fucking fix somewhere else, junkie,” Dante shoved the man in the chest with both hands, and if he was maybe taking a little aggression out on an unsuspecting stranger at least he didn’t have the energy to feel bad about it. He shouldered past the immobile figure, grinding his teeth, and stormed out of the bathroom.

 

~

 

_“I think that’s the only plausible explanation at the moment... The question is how. It’s nothing we’ve ever seen before.”_

 

“It makes my skin crawl, worse than usual,” Alex said, not really a fan of being stared at by anyone, but this felt invasive to a disturbing extent. “Definitely something we need to look into because this is just plain uncomfortable.”

 

Over the years, while Alex never killed or hurt innocent people, he’d found he wasn’t above killing people he found to be truly evil. He’d drained more Nazis than he could count during World War II, not to mention a number of people on both sides during Vietnam, depending on what war crimes were being committed by who. When he was state-side though, he’d found an odd kind of thrill going after humans he preyed on their own. At first, he’d worried Dante would disapprove, but it seemed as if it weren’t an issue as much as Alex had feared it might be.

 

So far, Alex had been in at least one car trunk and one van, though in both cases things ended badly for the person who had put him there. The ruse was usually kept up until Alex had gotten enough information to leave a decent tip for the police, though he usually didn’t let the perpetrator live long after. Aside from that, Alex had no opposition to roughing up would-be muggers, though that was usually when Alex himself was targeted while in a strange city.

 

_“I can only assume it’s gotta be some kinda witch. Doesn’t feel like a demon. And there’s so much we don’t know about witches, what powers they might be capable of if they’re not abiding by the rules.”_

 

“This whole mess is making me like witches a lot less,” Alex said, slightly louder, in case whoever was watching them was able to get audio as well as video, metaphorically speaking.

 

_“The fucking nerve.”_

 

Alex felt as if something subtle had shifted in the atmosphere. He wasn’t sure what it was and it made his stomach twist just a bit. Glancing at Dante, Alex hoped it was nothing, but for some reason, the hunter’s mood seemed to sour and the vampire couldn’t figure out why. One theory Alex had was Dante didn’t like the idea of Alex actively hunting a human predator, or perhaps the hunter worried Alex was taking unnecessary risks.

 

_“You know what... I’ll take one of those. You didn’t ask for his ID.”_

 

It’s after his second shot, and Dante asking for one of his own, that Alex was at a loss. While he’d joked earlier about a drunk Dante falling into a drunken stupor would have been a solution to the sleeping issue, he didn’t think it was a good idea. For one, Dante hadn’t eaten enough and had just been fed from recently. On top of that, Alex didn’t think Dante being drunk here and now was a great idea.

 

With Dante turned away with him, Alex allowed a concerned look to cross his face. He felt as if something were definitely off right now. He wanted to do or say something, but how does one fix a problem they can’t identify? There were also times when things could go a number of ways, he could easily see Dante shrugging his questions of, though just as easily he could see it being akin to throwing gas on a fire.

 

_“Yup, he’s definitely a serial killer. I’m gonna hit the head, enjoy your date.”_

 

On some level, Alex knew Dante was joking, even though such a statement in the past would have been a clear indicator of the hunter being sarcastic. Alex desperately wanted to stop Dante, but knew this plan worked better if he was alone and, seeming, vulnerable. With Dante out of the picture, for the moment, another shot appeared in front of Alex. He shrugged his shoulders, an unnecessary action, and downed his third shot of the night.

 

Standing up, Alex moved over to sit beside the sunglass-wearing weirdo. He put on a fake smile and prattled on about some inane thing, though the creep quickly shifted the topic to Dante. Not wanting his plan to fail, Alex insisted he was just a friend. For a good few minutes, Alex was forced to listen to some stranger go on about how he thought Alex deserved better than ‘some kid’ and it made Alex furious, though he kept his face schooled carefully into drunken smile mode. Even though they weren’t a thing, Alex didn’t like having some rando being so dismissive towards his partner. At this point, Alex was almost looking forward to ruining this creep’s night.

 

A few more minutes pass, another drink was ordered for Alex, who inwardly sighed at the gesture. This guy clearly wanted Alex halfway unconscious before leaving it seemed. Alex once again accepted and downed half the glass like it was nothing, though he slowly acted increasingly drunk.

 

By the time Dante returned from the bathroom, he would have been able to see Alex had moved over to the side of the bar his sunglass-wearing, douchebag, hipster, not-so-secret admirer was sitting. A total of four shot glasses were over where Dante and Alex had originally been sitting, while a tall glass of a different amber liquid sat in front of Alex, it was half empty.

 

The pair sat close, almost too close, certainly too close for two guys just being dudes. Alex laughed at something the man said, though anyone who knew Alex knew the laugh and the forced smile were fake. It was all an act to lure bad people in further, it certainly did help that Alex was putting up the front of being more than a little tipsy, almost falling out of his barstool a few times. The serial killer looking douche apparently had no problem with reaching out to steady Alex, though his hands seemed to wander more than strictly necessary and at one point his hand seemed to be placed firmly on Alex’s knee.

 

However, Alex was hating it all, he didn’t like feeling the stranger’s hands pawing at him, and the feeling of a hand on his knee that just wouldn’t move drove him a little up the wall. Catching the familiar and safe scent of tobacco and leather, Alex’s eyes darted over the man’s shoulder to the hall that lead to the bathrooms. He silently hoped Dante would get into the car and follow, because Alex wasn’t interested in a long hike and having to sniff his partner out after.

 

Taking his glass, Alex finished off the rest, prompting the possible serial killer to prod him into leaving. Alex acted hesitant, but after a few more words, the vampire stood, stumbling a little, only for the creep to pull him along. If Alex had actually been drunk, he was sure he probably would have fallen flat on his face. Worst. Abduction. Ever.

 

Once outside, Alex was guided over to an older car, not a beater with a heater, but it was clearly passed its prime. When the man said he had something in the trunk he wanted to show Alex, the vampire almost rolled his eyes. It was so cliche and terrible. Regardless, he stumbled back and when the man opened the trunk, only to promptly shove Alex backward into it, the vampire only half-heartedly tried to climb back out before the top slammed shut.

 

Alex lay still for a moment, acutely aware of the man walking around to the driver’s side before the car started up. There was no point in doing much now, so Alex just lay there, waiting. Still, after a good fifteen minutes of driving, Alex moved a little. The metallic ‘thud’ he heard when his elbow bumped the floor of the truck alarmed him. Banging his elbow against it, Alex was pretty sure there was definitely metal under him. Kicking his foot out a bit, Alex heard another metallic thud. Slowly, a sense of uneasiness overcame the vampire, who experimentally took one of his gloves off, then pressed the tip of his pinky finger against the side of the truck. Immediately, he shouted and yanked his hand back, the tip of his finger a bright red, burnt.

 

If Alex were capable of having a panic attack, he might have had one right then. He was encased in a silver lined trunk, being driven by a man who most certainly had to have known that Alex was a vampire. Putting his glove back on, he was at a loss for what to do now. Panic taking hold, Alex tried to reach up to push the trunk open with sheer brute force. Pain flooded his body as he felt a sudden jolt, almost a shock, run through him. Blinking, Alex realized there must have been some enchantment or something preventing him from pushing open the trunk. 

 

If he wasn’t panicking before, he certainly was now. He didn’t know who this man was, who he might be in league with, but he had Alex well and truly trapped and for the first time in a while, Alex felt real, genuine fear for himself. However, rather than let it overcome him, Alex started thrashing around, shaking the car violently from the force, hoping beyond all reason someone realized something was up.

 

From an outside perspective, the car seemed to suddenly start jolting, as if a large and angry animal were contained in the back and desperate to get out. In any other situation, Alex easily could have forced his way out, but the lining of silver was something he couldn’t break and the spell kept him from simply ripping the top off.

 

A sudden rush of sorrow overcame Alex then, as he realized the severity of his situation. What if Dante didn’t find him? Would he ever see Dante again? What if Dante never found out what happened? Worst of all, who would watch Dante’s back and make sure he actually ate and slept once in a while? Alex was beyond the point of worrying about himself, instead he was worried about his partner. Though one of the worst possibilities from Alex’s perspective was never seeing his partner again. A dull dripping sound hit Alex’s ears, causing the vampire to blink a bit, his contact lenses going misty. It took a moment, but he realized he was crying.

 

Alex didn’t cry, his father detested it, Vincent hadn’t liked it, Nikolai had mocked him the few times he’d shed a tear, so Alex just didn’t do crying. Letting a moment of fear and sorrow overcome him, the vampire realized he couldn’t just lay there and let some douchebag drag him away from Dante. His thrashing only became more violent, with Alex not even caring if he hurt himself as the spell keeping him in sent shockwaves of pain through him.

 

~

 

Coming out of the bathroom to the sight of Alex and that damn stranger nearly in each other’s laps was almost enough to stop Dante’s heart. He found himself standing stock-still, frozen. He felt like he’d been punched in the stomach. He heard more than felt the shaky breath that escaped his lips, shock rooting him to the floor.

 

Empty shot glasses on the bar. A hand on Alex’s knee. Mere inches between their bodies as they leaned into each other. Nausea bubbled in the hunter’s chest.

 

_So much for serial killer vibes, Alex._

 

That thought, ghosting through his mind like an echo, was the ray of abstract logic the hunter needed.

 

Alex wasn’t drunk. Alex was never drunk. And he’d already brought up that tired-but-true plan of letting this guy throw him in his trunk before they destroyed him, another predator taken in by his own prey.

 

 _'That’s what he’s doing_ ,' Dante repeated to himself with a sad amount of actual conviction, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. It’s just an act. Breathe. He’s acting.

 

Dante watched through the crowd as the stranger pulled Alex to his feet, towards the door. He felt himself wavering, his tortured mind supplying him with screams of doubt. Maybe Alex had been saying all those things to play it cool, to seem disinterested. Maybe he actually wanted to follow this man, to take him to some shadowed corner to make out or worse.

 

Eyes. He felt eyes on him. Turning his head just slightly, Dante caught the curves of blonde hair hanging over bare shoulders. The girl from earlier was watching him, staring. Almost as obvious as that head-job in the bathroom.

 

Shaking off the goosebumps prickling at his skin, Dante forced his feet to move. One boot at a time, his steps heavy. He had to follow Alex. Just in case. He had to know for sure. Beyond raw concern, that was his job as the vampire’s partner. His responsibility was to keep him safe, no matter the cost.

 

It shouldn’t have been so relieving to see a stranger throwing his best friend into a trunk. But somehow, it was. Dante kept to the shadows of the pillar near the door, waiting for the man to jump in his car and start the engine. He felt almost shaky with relief, his breaths coming faster as he jogged to their stolen vehicle. The feeling was short-lived, however, and he cursed to himself as he realized Alex had the keys. Time to do this the hard way.

 

Jimmying the car door and hacking at the ignition took precious seconds, and Dante nearly panicked as he watched the car containing Alex reverse out of the parking stall and head for the road. He didn’t have time to hotwire the damn thing. Diving into the tool bag in the backseat, Dante’s searching fingers closed around the handle of a screwdriver in the dark. It took all of his strength to jam it into the ignition, but after a few tries and some generous application of elbow grease, Dante managed to get the engine running. He peeled rubber as he followed the glow of retreating taillights out onto the road.

 

Shit, that guy was really booking it. And he was definitely going to have to get that screwdriver out before they got to the city, and Dante might be weirdly tipsy somehow, and why the hell hadn’t Alex already busted out of there and started ripping throats out?

 

The feeling of cold dread, coiling like a snake in the pit of his stomach, continued to grow heavy as minutes ticked by. Alex was still in there.

 

Dante felt something like panic gnawing at the edges of his mind, warning bells screaming at him in the darkness. Something was wrong.

 

As if on cue, the car in front of him shook like something had hit it, swerving over the yellow line. The car was now rocking violently, the driver clearly struggling to maintain control.

 

Alex was in trouble. For whatever reason, he couldn’t break out. He was trapped.

 


	4. We're Here for a Fun Time Not a Long Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things get crazy and bits of Dante's past are discussed.

The concept was like a shot of pure adrenaline to the heart, and without thinking, Dante laid onto the gas pedal. The engine roared, the tachometer shooting dangerously close to the red line as the car shot forward, pressing Dante back into his seat. He flew forward, his bumper coming dangerously close to the vehicle now directly in front of him. He briefly considering ramming it, but had no idea if he might hurt Alex. Normally that would be an absurd idea—the vampire could survive anything—but at the moment he still didn’t know if Alex was somehow hurt, or incapacitated, or worse.

 

Yanking the steering wheel to the right, the hunter drove onto the shoulder, speeding up to pace the other car. He could hear it speeding up, or trying to, but for the first time maybe ever Dante definitely had the better horse in this race. This shithead wasn’t going to get away from him.

 

Running on instinct without any real plan, Dante reached for the leather holster shoved between his seat and the center console, hefting his old revolver into his left hand and holding it out the window. He realized. mouth was dry. This was a little crazy even by their standards. The worst part being, he still only had three bullets left.

 

Taking careful aim at the rear passenger side wheel while simultaneously trying not to wreck out, Dante squeezed the trigger. The car dangerously close to him veered at the last minute, sending up a spray of dust and gravel that had Dante choking. Definitely a miss.

 

The panic was back, not that it was an abnormal sensation considering he was driving almost 90 on a bumpy shoulder and trying to shoot at the same time.

 

“You’re a crack shot, asshole,” Dante all but shouted at himself over the noise of the engines, “get it together!”

 

Two bullets. Two goddamn silver bullets were all he had.

 

He thought of Alex, of the possibility that he might somehow lose the only good thing in his life. All because he’d been too jealous and up in his head to stay by his partner’s side.

 

Breathing out in a long rush, Dante looked down the barrel of his revolver and fired two shots in quick succession. The 'pop' of exploding rubber and the screech of metal rims nearly deafened him as the tire disintegrated, sending the vehicle careening across the road. Dante hit the brakes and narrowly avoided getting hit himself as the car swerved, overcorrected. The vehicle veered across oncoming traffic and down a short embankment.

 

Standing on the brakes, Dante threw the car in park. He sprinted across the road, his heart in his throat, and looked down the slope. Thankfully the vehicle was still upright, the driver’s side almost crushed against a tree trunk. With any luck the asshole was dead already.

 

“I should have fucking listened to you,” Dante muttered out loud as he skidded down the hill, his jeans quickly soaked in the wet grass. He couldn’t run as fast as he wanted to on the steep grade, but the short hill leveled out some towards the bottom and in seconds he was throwing himself against the trunk, fingers scrabbling for a lever that wasn’t there.

 

“Alex!” Dante screamed, not caring how out of control he sounded, “Alex say something! Goddamit. Are you alive?”

 

It was god or Satan or some angel in-between that gave him the good luck to look up at that exact moment, into an angry, blood-smeared face twisted into a snarl. Into the barrel of a handgun pointed directly at his face.

 

Dante threw himself sideways just as the gun went off. He knew he’d survived only by the intense explosion of pain that erupted across his left ear. The hunter hit the ground hard, kicked out blindly. His boot connected with something solid that felt a lot like a kneecap, and he rolled forward to press the attack.

 

Dante’s ears were ringing like he was trapped inside the mass bell at Saint Andrews, his vision blurry as his equilibrium failed him. He didn’t think he’d been shot, but he could feel something warm trickling from his ear and hoped distantly that wasn’t going to be permanent because being full-deaf and half-blind really sucked.

 

Dante seized his attacker’s arm, literally feeling the recoil, seeing the flash as the weapon fired again. He dealt a punch directly to the man’s bicep, watching him open his mouth in pain as the gun fell free. The move cost him though, and he grunted as a heavy fist connected with his jaw like a jackhammer. Fuck but this guy was strong. Stronger than he should be.

 

The blow knocked Dante back down onto the grass, slick with dew and muddy with tire skids. He knew the other man was going to go for the gun again, try to finish him off.

 

The hunter twisted, scissoring his legs to bring his opponent down with him, away from wherever that deadly weapon had fallen. If he could keep this douchebag from getting to it, he knew he could win. As his attacker fell almost on top of him Dante rolled, catching the man’s arm and twisting until the hunter was literally on his back. His opponent was stronger than him by a mile, but Dante was quicker. He snaked one arm around the man’s neck, the other locking behind it to push the fragile human trachea against the sharp bone of the hunter’s forearm. The man struggled as he realized what was happening, trying to get to his feet, to throw Dante off. His hands prying at the arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The hunter held fast, even when his back was slammed against the car behind them. It didn’t take long. The man was weakening. Dante smelled something chemical and rotten on him from this close, even under all that cologne.

 

He held there for dear life, putting every ounce of strength left in his body into keeping the chokehold tight. He felt the fight draining, and the man fell into the grass, Dante on top of him. The stranger spasmed, muscles constricting in a last attempt to fight off imminent death.

 

The hunter held the chokehold long after the man had stopped moving, held it until his muscles screamed for relief and the ear-splitting whine in his head couldn’t be ignored for another second. Only then did he pry himself away, his rattled mind half-expecting his attacker to lurch back to life somehow. But the body lay, still and lifeless in the grass.

 

Braced on his hands and knees in the freezing grass, Dante spit out a mouthful of bloody saliva, his ears still ringing painfully. The noise was blocking out any other sound from the world around him. He couldn’t hear himself gasping, or the roar of traffic, or any sound from his partner.

 

“Alex...” Fear gave Dante the strength to get his mind working again. He had to get that damn trunk open. He had to make sure Alex was still alive.

 

He pulled himself towards the body next to him. Fingers numb, the hunter dove into the stranger’s jacket pocket, searching desperately for keys. Thank god they hadn’t fallen out during their tussle, and he quickly hooked onto a key ring.

 

Gasping for breath, Dante pulled himself up painfully until he was leaning on the trunk of the vehicle once more. It had been a long time since a simple fistfight had taken the wind out of him like this, and he wondered distantly if he was getting soft. How embarrassing.

 

Feeling along the top of the trunk with shaky fingers, he managed to get the key into the right place and turn. He felt the click of mechanical release as the trunk popped open.

 

“Alex,” the hunter could feel himself mouthing the name over and over like a mantra, but he couldn’t hear so much as a whisper. “Alex, please be okay...”

 

~

 

Distantly, through his panick and thrashing around, Alex was aware of the car trying to maintain control despite his violent struggling. Then, he rolled and slammed against the back edge of the trunk as the driver picked up speed. At the same time, he grew aware of the sound of a revving engine and squealing tires behind the car he was trapped inside. In the back of his mind, he was well aware that he had the keys to their car, and had forgotten to give them to Dante before leaving. The vampire also knew just as well his partner had no issue starting a vehicle without keys.

 

Idly, and feeling less terrified out of his mind, Alex contemplated what Dante might or could do. The thought of Dante possibly ramming the car came to mind, but the vampire couldn’t be sure how well that would go over for anyone. While lost in thought, Alex jolted when he heard gun fire. It was a single bullet, which quickly reminded Alex that Dante only had three bullets in his revolver. Sure, they had more guns, but it wasn’t as if Dante could pull over and unload them in the middle of a high speed chase.

 

As if an answer to a silent prayer to a God he wasn’t sure he believed in, Alex heard two more rapid shots, followed by a tire exploding, and an ear piercing screech just as he felt the car lose control. While he couldn’t see it, Alex had no problem visualizing the car spiraling out of control, but what surprised him was the feeling of weightlessness as the car rolled down an embankment. For a brief second, Alex slammed full force into the magical forcefield that kept him from simply forcing his way out.

 

It had been like a fly hitting an electric bug zapper, or that was how Alex imagined it when his entire body went stiff as he felt as if it’d been electrocuted. It lasted for a moment, then he was back on the floor of the trunk, but after all of his struggling and then that, it depleted any energy he had left. As the car came to a halt at the bottom of the embankment, Alex went still, staring blankly up in a daze.

 

_“Alex!” ...“Alex say something! Goddamit. Are you alive?”_

 

The sound of Dante screaming and the sound of his own name broke Alex out of his daze. He tried to move, to open his mouth and reassure his partner, but a soft groan was all he managed. He’d definitely need blood after this, though at this point he wasn’t sure what the spells or enchantments he’d been zapped with were or if this would simply take a while to heal and recover from with or without blood.

 

Any relief Alex felt at both Dante’s presence and his rescue died immediately when he heard a gunshot. Dante had no bullets left, that couldn’t have been from him. Immediately, Alex feared the worst and bit down on his lip from sheer nerves, drawing a bit of blood in the process. He wanted to call out to Dante, to know he was alive and not murdered by the lunatic Alex had stupidly left the arcade with.

 

However, a moment later, he heard the sound of bone cracking as something hit it, the sound of a knee popping was very distinct, not to mention the grunt he heard from up above, a grunt too low to be Dante. In the least, Alex was sure the hunter was alive, though he was more than a little worried about how Dante would fair against a much bigger man in a fist fight. Even more distantly, through his temporary cage, Alex could smell blood, familiar blood at that. The worst part was not knowing what was happening outside.

 

Listening, straining to pick up anything of what was happening, Alex could hear the distinct sounds of a fight. The sound of flesh on flesh, the grind of bones against bones, and the soft grunts and groans of being hit met his ears. At one point he was sure someone hit the ground, based on the sound of mud skidding under a roughly human-sized shape, though Alex didn’t know who had the upper hand.

 

Soon enough, it sounded as if another body hit the forest floor. The ensuing scuffle just confused Alex’s currently limited senses. Jolting again, Alex felt the pair slamming against the car and he knew well enough Dante wasn’t strong enough to lift and throw the pair of them against it like that. A million imagines crossed his mind of Dante being bludgeoned to death against the car and he bit down harder into his lip. Finally, he heard and felt the pair fall to the ground nearby and the struggle stopped. A good few moments passed, the entire time Alex couldn’t help but imagine Dante laying dead in the grass outside.

 

_“Alex...”_

 

A sharp exhale of relief was all Alex managed when he heard his name uttered in Dante’s voice. Still, he couldn’t move, his limbs felt heavy and he felt the occasional twitch from whatever he’d been zapped with while in the trunk. It clearly wasn’t designed to kill him, though it did a good job of locking him in and then subduing him.

 

Reminding himself to be patient, Alex listened to the sound of rustling clothes and jangling keys. Dante couldn’t just rip the trunk open of course, so keys were what made sense. He listened a bit more, hearing gasping breathes and was only reassured by them that Dante was alive and right outside. While Dante might be embarrassed about getting winded from a fist fight, Alex was pretty embarrassed about getting abducted by some weirdo and needing to be rescued, again.

 

The sound of the latch popping open and the trunk unlocking could have made Alex weep with joy if he wasn’t trying to compose himself. It certainly didn’t help that he couldn’t move yet and his body was twitching and jerking slightly.

 

_“Alex,” ... “Alex, please be okay...”_

 

“D-D...” Alex stammered, trying and failing to get his jaw to work right.

 

By the time the trunk was open, Alex blinked owlishly up at Dante with dazed, artificially violet eyes. The silver interior around him was dented up, though it had held. Essentially it looked like someone had painstakingly lined the entire trunk with silver, it was welded along the curves and edges, leaving no weak points for Alex to potentially rip apart. It was simple, horrifyingly so, now that Alex thought about it, that this was all it took to have him contained. Even worse, he knew the only weak point, the top where the hinges and latch were located were covered by the electric fence spell, as Alex decided to call it.

 

“Da-an...te,” Alex managed, a weak upward quirk of his lips following all while he hoped Dante didn’t realize the vampire had been crying, because that was really embarrassing.

 

Once more, the vampire struggled to move, but clearly his limbs weren’t listening to him and he slumped back, a groan passing his lips.

 

~

 

“Shit...” the hunter felt the word slip free as he stared at the trunk, lined with silver. An effective prison. Alex was alive, trying to talk to him, his lips moving barely, but it was clear something was very wrong.

 

“I can’t—I can’t hear you,” Dante explained clumsily, “just stay still. I’ll get you out—“

 

How exactly he was going to manage that, he had no idea. For the moment, he was simply relieved to find his partner in one piece. The vampire clearly couldn’t move, but whether that was due to the silver surrounding him or something else that might have happened was beyond him for the moment. At least for now, he couldn’t rely on Alex to help him.

 

Paranoid, Dante looked over his shoulder, making sure the body he’d left in the grass was still there, still lifeless and harmless. The last thing he needed was to get ambushed again, and without his hearing he was doubly vulnerable and well aware of it.

 

The hunter felt along the edges of the trunk with his hands, trying to figure out if there were any sharp edges or booby traps. For all intents and purposes, it was designed to foil a vampire, not a human, and there didn’t appear to be anything more sinister keeping Alex inside that he could spot.

 

“Okay okay... what are we doing...” Dante muttered to himself, trying to formulate a plan. Talking to himself didn’t have the usual effect, for obvious reasons, and he growled in frustration. It wouldn’t be pretty, but he had no other options. He had to get Alex away from the silver by brute strength if necessary. Usually he would have managed with a handful of grunts and colorful curses, but usually his legs didn’t feel like jello and his body wasn’t on the verge of all-out rebellion.

 

Fisting both hands in Alex’s jacket, Dante yanked and tugged at the vampire, doing his best to pull at least his upper body out of the trunk. Alex had about twenty pounds on the hunter on a good day, making a difficult task even more frustrating, and Dante silently cursed the universe. He’d inherited very little from his father and that included the man’s large stature. Dante was sure he’d never been more pissed off about that fact. Sure would have come in handy about now.

 

The hunter supported Alex’s head, making absolutely certain the only exposed skin of his face and neck didn’t touch the metal as he pulled at him. Dante was finally able to loop both arms under the vampire’s armpits and drag him backwards out of the trunk but the unsteady pair didn’t hold up long on the slick ground. Dante grunted as they fell awkwardly, trying to cushion his partner as much as possible.

 

He found himself staring up at an ominously cloudy sky, breaking periodically to allow the light of a waning full moon to blink through. For a moment he simply laid there, one arm wrapped protectively around the vampire’s chest, allowing himself a moment to bask in the relief of another too-close call.

 

“Need to... stop making a habit of this,” the hunter murmured, patting Alex’s shoulder tiredly. He didn’t figure either of them had much fight left, but they also didn’t have any options. He wasn’t sure if the vampire tried to answer him. Either way he couldn’t hear it.

 

“You need blood,” Dante wasn’t even sure if the words came out right, his frantic mind helpfully volunteering the concept that maybe he would be deaf for the rest of his life. Thankfully his brain was quick to skip past that problem and straight down the laundry list of crises that followed it.

 

The truth was grim. They were in trouble. The hunter hadn’t eaten, hadn’t really slept, and had been running himself ragged for days now. He was always chasing that later moment, that elusive hour of peace to finally recharge. The problem was, in their lives, that moment never really came.

 

Which all boiled down to the gut-wrenching fact that he didn’t know if he could give Alex any more of his blood, not without killing himself in the process. Letting the vampire feed had nearly knocked him flat a few hours ago... he knew he wouldn’t be able to stay conscious if he tried it again. And if he wasn’t here to protect Alex, and god forbid something went wrong, or it didn’t work... they would both be completely helpless.

 

Dante was spinning out. Mentally and physically he was at the end of a frayed rope, waiting to snap. He was usually so quick to find a solution, any small detail or loophole to dig them out of every fresh hell. Now, soaked and cold and deaf and disoriented, he had nothing.

 

The hunter slowly shifted onto his side and let Alex down somewhat clumsily, not having the strength to be graceful. His body was reminding him loudly that he had very nearly died a few moments ago, but then again so had Alex. In fact if the vampire’s welfare wasn’t such a concern, if Dante has been alone in this fight, he knew for a fact he wouldn’t have had the strength to move at all. He would have laid there all night for all he cared.

 

But as always, there was Alex. Alex who was laying there, barely moving, his muscles jerking like he was tied down in an invisible cage. Alex. And if the vampire needed him to, Dante would burn heaven and hell itself down to ashes to help him.

 

The hunter stood on unsteady legs, staring at the carnage around him. How the hell had they ended up here? Everything was still such a blur.

 

He realized quite abruptly that he was about to be sick.

 

“Excuse me,” he told the vampire pointlessly, voice carefully calm, before retreating to the far side of the wrecked car to throw up at the foot of the tree. He gagged quietly—at least he hoped it was quiet—as he brought up only alcohol and bile. The hunter straightened, sighing as his stomach finally stopped waging war on him, but that was really just one in a long list of concerns. They were in truly deep shit. No question.

 

Growling in frustration, he hit his palm against the right side of his head, trying to force the terrible ringing on the opposite side to subside. A trail of hot blood was snaking down his neck from his left ear, reminding him he had missed getting his face blown off by a centimeter and he was lucky this was the worst he had to contend with. He was tougher than this. He knew he was.

 

For a heart-skipping moment, it occurred to the human that he had gone completely soft. He was walking a tightrope in this dangerous life, knowing all the while that a vampire was waiting below him, a net to catch his fall. He took too many risks, pushed himself in ways he never would have dared. He’d always considered that an advantage but now, he wasn’t so sure.

 

Spinning on his heel, Dante returned to his partner. He was hoping that whatever invisible force was affecting him might have magically worn off. As ever, they weren’t that lucky.

 

“Blood, you need blood,” Dante was repeating again, but it was still useless. He was almost positive his eardrum was ruptured, but that would heal eventually. If Alex was able to speak to him, offer guidance, the hunter couldn’t hear it. He’d have to figure this one out on his own.

 

A terrible thought was occurring to him, repulsive to his human sensibilities. But the terrifying truth was it was their single remaining option.

 

“Can you... feed? Off him?” Dante asked uselessly out loud, knowing he wasn’t going to get an answer. Even if he did, there was no way he could hear it.

 

The universe was a cruel bastard, he concluded.

 

Dante found a wicked-looking knife in the man’s boot, and was relieved that at least it wasn’t silver. It seemed like some kind of old stone, sharpened to a razor’s edge but otherwise ancient and battered. Dante knew he’d need to search him thoroughly later, try to find some clue to who he was, but right now it was all about prioritizing.

 

He heaved the body over the last few feet until it was as close to Alex as possible. Dante hated doing this, hated that this asshole had just tried to kill them both and now he was going to subject the vampire to his blood. It felt impossible. It felt wrong.

 

From the position he was in now, Dante was able to extend the still-warm arm over Alex. He used the commandeered knife to slice a line through jacket and shirt, a task made shockingly simple by the sharpened blade.

 

The hunter froze, staring down at the tattoos covering now-exposed skin. The gears working overtime in his tired brain had come to a screeching halt as he tried to comprehend what he was seeing. He swallowed hard, chilled to the bone. Fear, anger, confusion rippled over him in crashing waves and he felt his breath hitch like his lungs had stopped working altogether. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t think straight.

 

_How the hell did they find me?_

 

He knelt there, staring, for too long before Dante forced himself into action. Slicing the knife across the tender skin of the inner elbow, expertly splitting the brachial artery. At least he could still do something right. He was relieved that the blood was still flowing strong, and he held the limb over Alex’s lips as crimson poured from the wound like a faucet.

 

Tremors ran through his arms as he held the arm as long as he could, and it could have been minutes, it could have been hours. But eventually, he could give no more. His muscles failed him, collapsing like a house of cards as he slumped onto his side. He barely had the energy to pull the lifeless body away, hoping against hope that it had been enough.

 

“That’s all I got buddy,” Dante tried to get his heart rate under control. It felt for all the world like he had just run a marathon. The world was spinning above him and he screwed his eyes shut, wondering if there was any chance he was just drunk. It was a ridiculous thought, even knowing how alcohol affected him. It had been one damn shot and he’d already heaved up most of it.

 

“If that doesn’t work... that’s it. I guess we’re done for.” Dante wasn’t normally a defeatist, but even the stubborn hunter within him had limits. He knew when he was beat.

 

~

 

After the joy of having the trunk opened and seeing Dante, Alex was reminded immediately of just how bad the fight outside had sounded. The scent of blood was strong, but somehow the sight of it on Dante left a hollow feeling in the pit of Alex’s stomach. He couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault they were in this situation. If he’d been more careful, or though things through a little better, maybe this could have been avoided. They’d been having such a good night too at the arcade.

 

_“I can’t—I can’t hear you,” ...“just stay still. I’ll get you out—“_

 

Alex tried to nod, indicating he understood Dante, though that left him without any possible way to communicate. Then again, he was having a hard time controlling his muscles enough to speak properly. He wasn't thrilled about Dante exerting himself, not now, not after how beat up he was from everything else and after neglecting things like nutrition and sleep. Still, Alex needed to get out of the trunk and right then his own legs weren't working.

 

_“Okay okay... what are we doing...”_

 

Before he could muse over how exactly they were going to get out of this tangle, the vampire felt both of Dante's hands in his jacket, pulling him up. Alex wanted to shake his head, to bat away Dante's hands, because he knew he was heavier than the hunter, but couldn't bring himself to do it for obvious reasons, such as not being able to move. Flinching a little, Alex was at least glad Dante avoided smacking his head or face against the silver lining. The last thing Alex wanted was to walk around looking like Two-Face for a week, which was roughly how long silver burns took to heal up properly.

 

A moment later, Alex felt Dante's arms loop under his armpits as he was finally pulled free from the silver-lined cage he'd been trapped inside of for the last fifteen to thirty minutes. The relief was short lived as the pair toppled over, Alex feeling less graceful than he was used to feeling, ever, as Dante broke his fall. Sighing, and only able to stare up at the sky, Alex wished talking were possible, but with one of them presently deaf and the other functionally mute, it wasn't happening.

 

Still, the man who'd tried to pull a Jeffrey Dahmer on him was dead, Alex was out of the trunk, and for the moment that was enough. It did help a bit that the warm weight of Dante's arm across his chest was there to keep him grounded even as the shakes and tremors continued. Beneath him, Alex could feel and hear the steady beating of Dante's heart.

 

"Da~n...t..." Alex tried to speak, only managing stammers and slurs, using the hunter's name as a starting point for getting his mouth to move correctly.

 

_“Need to... stop making a habit of this,”_

 

Right now, it was more apparent than ever that something had to change. Neither of them could keep up like this, not when the threats only seemed to become bigger and more ominous. It was a matter of time before their luck ran out and their pasts caught up to them. That thought alone terrified Alex more than anything because that meant one day something horrible would happen to one or both of them and that would be that. Alex gave a jerky kind of nod, agreeing wholeheartedly with the suggestion of this not being a habit.

 

_“You need blood,”_

 

Alex would have laughed at the statement any other time. Of course he needed blood, but he so often denied it from his partner. Right then, however, he was worried that Dante would try to give him more from himself. With Alex being moved from Dante shifted to his side, he silently hoped the hunter had a better idea than draining himself for Alex. While he wasn't a doctor, Alex knew how dangerous it'd be for Dante to lose any more blood.

 

_“Excuse me,”_

 

Before Alex could prepare for Dante to possible do something dangerous, the hunter decided to excuse himself. Trying to twist his head to follow where Dante was going, Alex found his muscles just didn't want to listen yet. Still, he could make out the faint sounds of gagging and vomiting, not to mention the smell of everything coming up. Any other time, he would have chided Dante for drinking, especially on a nearly empty stomach, but here and now clearly wasn't the place for it.

 

A moment later, he heard a human growl, then what sounded like flesh hitting something solid. He hoped Dante wasn't doing anything that would have been ill-advised if Alex were able to advise. Really though, this wasn't the time or place for anyone to be beating themselves up. Especially after Dante was already pretty beat up.

 

_“Blood, you need blood,” ... “Can you... feed? Off him?”_

 

Alex wanted to sigh, but simply remained where he was, motionless save for the occasional twitch. He didn't want to feed off of the man who was planning on doing God knows what to him. The vampire wasn't entirely sure the man was going to kill him, as he seemed more interested in luring Alex away and trapping him. Even know, Alex knew that in his condition, if the man had taken him to where ever he was headed, Alex might not have been strong enough to fight him off. That thought sent a chill down his spine.

 

A moment later, and feeling resigned, Alex watched as Dante dragged the body over to him. As disgusted as he was, at the thought of that man's blood in him, it was the only real option out of this mess. Even the phantom feeling of that man's hands on his body made Alex shudder. Still, Alex was almost glad when Dante held a dagger in one hand and the creep's arm in the other. Watching the jacket and sleeve being cut away, Alex waited, only to wonder why Dante paused. He followed Dante's line of sight, only to see the same tattoos the hunter was looking at, then he understood why Dante had frozen and looked so shaken.

 

Dante cut into an artery. The man hadn't been dead long and the blood was still warm. The first feeling of blood on his lips made Alex force his mouth open, a rush of excitement surging through him as the warm, crimson fluid slid over his tongue and down his throat. He knew Dante was straining to keep himself upright like this, and as his stomach filled with blood, Alex felt some of his strength return to him. Slowly, the tremors stopped and as Dante collapsed, Alex grabbed the dead man's arm and pulled it to his mouth, latching onto it and draining what he could through it. There was no restraint like there was with Dante, this man was dead and Alex felt no remorse for him.

 

 _“That’s all I got_ buddy _,” ... “If that doesn’t work... that’s it. I guess we’re done for.”_

 

Once Alex could get no more blood from the corpse, he shoved it away from him and rose to his feet. Normally Alex kept his cool, and normally he didn't let his emotions run rampant on his face. Right now wasn't normally, eyes narrowed, mouth twisted into a snarl, and his nose scrunched up, he looked every bit the monster Nikolai told him he was. Alex winded a foot back, then punted the corpse, sending it soaring through the air until it struck a nearby tree with a sickening crack before hitting the forest floor with a dull thud. After a moment, Alex calmed down a bit as fear, worry, and anger started to subside.

 

Surveying the scene around the wreckage of the car, Alex had a slightly easier time now figuring out what had happened. The vampire felt a mix of grim satisfaction and dismay knowing Dante had killed the man behind their current misfortune. Alex was glad the creep was dead, though he wished he’d been the one to do it. That and also he had a few questions in need of answers.

 

“I wish you left him a little bit more…” Alex trailed off, thinking of the best way to put it, despite knowing Dante couldn't hear him. “Alive, I did want to have a word with him. It can’t be helped I guess.”

 

Given the lack of a person to grill for answers, it seemed as if the only way to figure out all of this was to loot the body, find an ID, find an address from that ID, and sleuth around for answers. Perhaps there was more in the car itself to give them an idea of just what had happened, who this man was, and what exactly he was planning on doing, and how.

 

Deciding it looked ready to rain and knowing how exhausted Dante looked. Alex went over to his partner, crouched down and lifted him up, not bothering worrying around Dante's dignity, he slung the hunter over one shoulder before going over to the car the creep had been driving. Opening up the door to the back seat, Alex carefully placed Dante inside. After all, Alex had to do some digging before they'd be ready to leave and Dante could use the rest.

 

“I’m so stupid,” the vampire murmured after a moment as he went into the front of the car, searching the glove box and middle console. “I should have paid better attention, shouldn’t have treated it like...like a game…” he trailed off, wanting to say more even to just himself. “You could have gotten hurt, worse than this I mean,” he finally said, referring to Dante.

 

While mostly talking to himself, he stuffed anything that looked useful or informative into his jacket pockets. Later, after they were safe and doing better, they could go through it all.

 

Going silent for a moment, everything he needed in his pockets, Alex thought back to all the missteps. He tried to think of how he could have known something was going to go wrong. He supposed he could have insisted on Dante staying closer, maybe even made a point of remembering to give him the keys, or maybe he could have actually looked at the interior of the trunk before it shut on him.

 

“He...had to have known, that I’ve done the whole Chris Hansen thing before, but without having a seat and more throat ripping,” he said after a moment, just sitting in the front, talking to himself. “And he knew what I was, he even prepared for it…” There was a hint of angst in Alex’s voice, a vulnerability he rarely displayed, glad Dante probably couldn't hear him. “I just don’t understand why he’d want a live vampire...or...well, ‘live’ vampire.”

 

Eventually, knowing how precarious their predicament still was, Alex got out, went around to pick Dante up, and decided to carry him up the embankment to the car. It was an easy climb now, Alex looked both ways before crossing the road and once again, opening the back seat to place Dante inside, then closing the door and locking it with the keys. He didn't trust his luck and the last thing he needed was for someone, or something, to drag Dante off.

 

"I'm going to dig through that guy's pockets, I'll be right back," He said, hoping Dante could at least read his lips through the window.

 

Heading back down, Alex did exactly what he said he'd do. In the end, he came out with the gun the man had, his wallet, and anything he had inside of his pockets. Right now Alex wasn't going to look through it, figuring with Dante down he'd finally have a chance to get the hunter to rest a bit before brainstorming. It was a pity though that they might not be able to salvage the silver in the car.

 

Alex climbed back up to the road, crossed it again, unlocked the car door and climbed into the driver's seat. Casting one glance over his shoulder at Dante, he was left at a loss. He was planning on getting Dante somewhere safe, but right then, he didn't know where safe was or how to get there. Alex figured maybe picking something up for Dante to eat later was the best course of action until they could discuss their next step. Then again, he wasn’t sure if Dante was ready to leave just yet.

 

Suddenly, as Alex heard rain start to gently hit the car, he had an idea. Digging around, the vampire found a pad of paper and a pen. Since Dante couldn’t hear him, writing his thoughts and concerns seemed the best bet at communicating for now.

 

For the record, Alex wrote feeling much safer and calmer, I did not enjoy my date. How are you feeling and can I do anything to help? Turning, Alex showed Dante what he wrote, then handed both the pen and paper to him.

 

~

 

Dante thought of crisp black ink, of scrolling Latin prayers and an ornate Saint Andrew’s cross. It wasn’t terribly different from the tattoos that stretched across his own arm from wrist to shoulder. It might have even been put there by the same tattoo artist come to think of it. At least the guy didn’t have a problem inking up kids.

 

He was only vaguely aware of Alex going Rambo on the drained corpse somewhere nearby, like watching a tv screen with the sound turned off. Sometimes he thought he might be catching murmurs of distant sound through the persistent ringing, but it always faded back out.

 

He felt a distant pang of regret—they weren’t in the business of killing humans. Then again, humans didn’t often try to kill them either. And there was no doubt that their survival wasn’t for lack of trying on the stranger’s part. Once he’d realized whatever plan he had was done for, it was clear he’d fully intended to kill them both. The question was why? After all the effort he’d put into taking Alex alive...

 

There were so many questions. Questions a dead man couldn’t answer.

 

Dante didn’t realize his eyes had slipped closed until he was suddenly being picked up. His initial reaction was to panic until he realized Alex was there, hefting him up with nauseating speed. Dante groaned as he was slung over the vampire’s shoulder, feeling like a sack of potatoes. He braced himself and felt immeasurably grateful he didn’t have anything left to throw up.

 

“I’m not drunk,” he felt the need to state randomly as he was transported to who-knew-where, “just feeling weird.” If he was drunk he wouldn’t be throwing up, anyways. He’d probably just be acting like a moron, saying stupid shit. Hell he’d probably try to kiss Alex if he got truly drunk.

 

And that definitely wasn’t a line of thought he needed to follow. Not by a long shot.

 

“I can walk,” Dante protested testily, even knowing that was a total lie as he was deposited into the back seat of the car. He made a half-hearted attempt to push the vampire away but it was sadly ineffective.

 

The hunter’s head spun as he tried to track Alex’s movements, watching him dig through the glovebox. He knew the vampire was trying to talk, whether to himself or Dante, but he had no idea what his partner was saying. The hunter was glad Alex was with it enough to do what Dante couldn’t—pillage the vehicle for clues, but he was frustrated that he couldn’t participate even verbally.

 

For a brief moment, the ringing subsided to a dull roar, and Dante could almost make out the comforting murmur of Alex’s voice tugging at the edges of his damaged hearing. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long.

 

“Don’t beat yourself up, idiot...” Dante leaned his head back, pressing his pants against his aching temples and willing his ears to work again. He was fairly certain what little he could pick up now was coming from the right side, but he had no idea how to speed up the process. “I don’t know what you’re saying but I’m sure it’s something to that effect... you couldn’t have known this was gonna happen.”

 

By the second time Alex picked him up Dante was almost resigned to being treated like a piece of luggage, grinding his teeth to avoid protesting and making Alex’s life more difficult than he already was. He knew he wouldn’t be able to walk very well on his own, if at all, so it was a situation he simply had to put up with for the moment. With minutes he was in the backseat, of their own car this time. Definitely reduced to playing suitcase. Not his finest hour.

 

The only word Dante could pick up through the window was “pockets' but that pretty much got the message across, and he tiredly waved his partner away. He watched him head back down the slope, relieved that the vampire seemed little the worse for wear. Dante had never seen the vampire incapacitated and truthfully, it had terrified him. It was a cruel gut-punch of a reminder that even Alex wasn’t completely invincible, and maybe Dante had always known that and just chosen to ignore it. He hoped it was a reality he would never have to face again.

 

Dante wanted nothing more than to lay down and forget about moving for a very long time, but he forced himself to shrug out of his jacket first. It was a slow and painful process, but he finally managed to slide the garment off, regretful to see it was dotted with flecks of blood. Again. Apparently the cleaning was a full time job. Folding it into a half-lump, he set it down on the seat as a makeshift pillow and slumped sideways against it with a long sigh. He watched through half-lidded eyes, studying the vampire’s handsome profile as he rejoined him in the car.

 

“Dammit, so much silver...” Dante mumbled into the sleeve of his own jacket, thinking wistfully of the endless supply they could have gleaned from that trunk if they had time. And energy. And tools. And a thousand other things they didn’t have access to right now.

 

Dante reached out tiredly for the notepad, squinting up at it as he held it over his face. It was a chore to force his eyes to focus, but he somehow found the energy for a half smile as he read the words.

 

“I’m feeling great,” Dante raised one bloody hand into a lazy thumbs-up, because he had neither the time or energy to catalogue his aches and pains. There was nothing wrong with him that Alex could help, he was pretty certain of that at least. An aching jaw and split lip, bone-deep exhaustion. Apparently a brutal case of tinnitus. Nothing a shower and a solid day of sleep wouldn’t cure, if they made it that far.

 

“I think I might need to sleep,” it was almost painful to admit after countless years of insisting vehemently that no, he absolutely did not require sleep at any time for any reason.

 

“That asshole... his tattoos. You saw them. They’re like mine.” Dante scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to think clearly. “He’s a hunter.”

 

The implications of one of his own coming after them were sobering. More damningly, they had obviously had a plan to take Alex alive, and that was somehow worse. It was telling. The brotherhood of hunters, their blood centuries-deep, did not consort with vampires. They must have found out that Dante was keeping company with the undead, and although he had wounded their pride and earned their scorn by leaving when he did, this was worse. This was a personal matter now.

 

Saint Andrews was one of the oldest churches in the country, and was home to one of the oldest sects of hunters known. Their priests had been building up their own small army since the late 1600’s, a crowning jewel of achievement on a crest overlooking the Delaware River. Their bloodlines painstakingly preserved, skill and knowledge passed on through the generations. They considered themselves pure. Elite. Untainted.

 

And then against all odds, along came Dante. For all intents and purposes he was a blemish on the face of their sacred brotherhood, a sign of wavering commitment to the cause. That his father had gone outside the sacred rites of the church and taken up with a common human... it was a miracle they hadn’t both been executed immediately. Although Dante still wasn’t sure about the details, his father had been allowed to remain in the church. Dante had been snatched from his mother’s arms at birth and taken into the depths of the basilica where he was reared by a collective of angry eyes and stern voices. From his earliest memory he was taught only to hunt. To devote himself completely to the destruction of darkness in all its forms.

 

Only none of that had gone according to plan, had it? Despite their best efforts, they had never been able to crush Dante’s spirit, his independence and stubborn streak. His failure to bow himself completely to tradition had made him a constant embarrassment.

 

Born a stain, die a stain, apparently. They could let him wander, an aimless wayward son, embarrassing them from afar. But they couldn’t sit idly while he defiled their deepest and most sacred rites by consorting with a vampire.

 

It wasn’t a surprise that this day had come honestly. It was just cosmically terrible timing.

 

“I think we need to find somewhere for the night,” Dante was sure it was a conclusion Alex had already come to, but he didn’t have the energy to be any more concise. “Recharge. Figure out what to do next. Sorry I’m.... not much help right now.” Another blow to his pride.

 

More importantly, he needed to tell Alex about Saint Andrews.

 

~

 

_“I’m not drunk,” ... “just feeling weird.”_

 

“I swear to drunk I’m not God, you mean?” Alex murmured to himself, a small quirk of his lips indicating at least he’d made an attempt at saying something to lighten his own mood.

 

The entire time Alex moved Dante around like a bit of luggage, he pondered just how well his partner could hear right then. Alex hoped there was no permanent damage, though he was thankful they were both still alive, or well, Dante was alive and Alex wasn’t a pile of dust.

 

_“I can walk,”_

 

The only response Alex seemed to have to Dante’s protests over being carried around was the slightest raised eyebrow. He really didn’t want Dante to stumble and hurt himself even more after how much he’d just exerted himself. Their luck was absolutely nightmarish right now and minimizing risks for the moment seemed like a good idea.

 

_“Don’t beat yourself up, idiot...” ... “I don’t know what you’re saying but I’m sure it’s something to that effect... you couldn’t have known this was gonna happen.”_

 

“...Listen,” Alex let the single word hang in their air, only to realize Dante couldn’t really hear him well enough to listen. Regardless, the vampire continued on. “I could have been more careful and minimized risks, I got too comfortable and put us both in danger.”

 

If Alex had learned anything today, it was that Nikolai wasn’t the only thing out there for him to worry about. Any random, ordinary hunter would have simply tried to ambush him in the woods with a silver bullet or crossbow while he fed on some animal. This one, however, had planned things out and had even targeted him specifically in a place where Alex doubted anyone would have pegged him for a vampire. The whole thing left him uneasy as if the floor had suddenly turned to glass and cracked under his feet.

 

_“Dammit, so much silver...”_

“We’ll find more, I’m sure of it,” Alex murmured, mostly reassuring himself enough to prepare to drive away from the silver-rich wreckage down the embankment.

 

_“I’m feeling great,”_

“Huh,” Alex said, giving Dante a once over, his eyes going from the hunter’s boots up to his eyes. He noted just how beat up and exhausted his partner looked. Not sure if Dante could hear him yet, he continued on. “Could have fooled me. I think we have very different ideas of what ‘great’ feels like.”

 

_“I think I might need to sleep,”_

 

“It’s about damn time,” Alex said, though he allowed a faint smile tug at his lips. “I’ve been trying to get you to sleep for...what is it, four years now?”

 

_“That asshole... his tattoos. You saw them. They’re like mine.” ... “He’s a hunter.”_

 

“I gathered as much, I mean, he certainly wasn’t a fisherman or a farmer,” Alex replied, though the fact that the man had tattoos like Dante was disconcerting. “In all seriousness, the trunk lined with silver and the anti-vampire Houdini...thing was kind of a giveaway.”

 

With everything that had happened in the last 48 or so hours, Alex was reeling. He didn’t want to admit it, not to Dante or himself, but he was shaken and unsure of what to do. It felt as if everything they’d been running from, all the enemies they’d made, could easily spring up at any moment.

 

So far they knew they were being watched, though that seemed to be the work of witches, based on what they knew. Alex also was certain someway, somehow, Nikolai was on to him, though he wasn’t even sure if those two things were connected or a coincidence. To his knowledge, they’d never pissed off any witches, but that would be the perfect curveball, wouldn’t it? It certainly caught them off guard and they still had no idea how they were being watched.

 

To add a giant cherry on top of the fuckery sundae, apparently, hunters were tracking them down. Normally Alex would assume they’d simply come to kill him, but then the man who’d taken him had seemed to have no problem shooting at Dante, not to mention the little trunk of horrors he’d had for Alex. How the hunters were tracking them, however, was a mystery to Alex.

 

_“I think we need to find somewhere for the night,” ... “Recharge. Figure out what to do next. Sorry I’m.... not much help right now.”_

 

“I’ll find us another motel, or something,” Alex said finally, putting the car into drive, though he gave the screwdriver in the ignition an odd look. “We are running low on funds though, so we’re going to have to figure something out soon if we want to have a bed to sleep in after tomorrow. ...This whole talking to myself thing is pretty embarrassing, by the way, but it helps me think.”

 

Finally, Alex pulled the car away from the shoulder of the road and started to drive. He almost wanted to dive straight into New York, knowing it was only a few hours out. There was plenty of night left after all, and it wasn’t like he’d be able to do much else until Dante was recovered. Glancing back at Dante, Alex remembered the hunter would need food, so he made a mental note to stop on their way.

 

“Can you hear me now?” Alex asked, at random intervals of roughly five to ten minutes, waiting for Dante to say something indicating his hearing was improving. “I swear if you don’t actually eat anything I’m going to go on a hunger strike myself until you do.”

 

Driving for a few hours, Alex decided they might as well make it to just north of the Bronx to rest for the night. As much as he wanted to jump right in and get to work figuring this all out, he had to think about Dante’s current state, with him being human and all. A human who happened to be slowly running himself into the ground. Pulling off at a random pit stop, Alex twisted around in his seat to look at Dante to see if the hunter was asleep or awake and if so, able to talk. The vampire was adamant about getting his partner to eat, but also not wanting to upset his stomach or take away from his much-needed rest.

 

~

 

Dante kept tired eyes focused on his partner as they drove, picking up every other word or so at first through a combination of lip reading and guesswork. He watched him until

the ringing subsided, fading into a low hum in his left ear. It helped to see him, to have his own eyes proving Alex was truly alright. It wasn’t often he felt this kind of worry. This kind of fear. Alex was supposed to be invincible.

 

_“Can you hear me now?”_

 

“Yeah, I can hear you,” Dante mumbled sometime later from underneath the arm laid across his eyes, blocking out the piercing flash of overhead streetlights. It didn’t seem worth mentioning that his left ear still wasn’t operational, an effect he’d probably have to contend with for a few days at least. If that was the worst of it he was lucky. He was lucky he was still breathing. It had been a few years since he’d been shot at. Most of their usual targets had claws, teeth, supernatural strength, dead eyes.

 

_“I swear if you don’t actually eat anything I’m going to go on a hunger strike myself until you do.”_

 

“And I swear to god I’ll eat...” Dante grinned without opening his eyes. “I even tried to order pizza, remember?”

 

He thought somewhat regretfully about the meat-lovers double cheese slice of heaven probably going cold on a counter somewhere. Thankfully he hadn’t paid for it yet, planning to settle up when the food came. Now that would have really added insult to injury.

 

His head spun as he tried to catalogue the various bizarre and terrifying things they had both experienced over the course of the last several days. So much didn’t make sense. That Nikolai, the brotherhood, and possibly a coven of witches were all on their trail at the exact same time, seemingly out of nowhere? Dante hadn’t survived this long by believing in coincidences. There was some clue, a common thread he was missing somewhere. If only he could concentrate long enough to actually see it.

 

Sleep came quietly, pulling him in with the comforting roar of the engine and the sound of tires on asphalt. When the motion stopped around him he came awake, blinking wide-eyed at the unfamiliar back seat.

 

The hunter sat up abruptly, trying to convince himself that he was more alert and awake than he felt. He was at that all too-familiar point of exhaustion that left him feeling nauseous and hollow, his head pounding. The hunter squinted at the glowing sign outside the window, realizing with some delay that they were parked at a small gas station. He met Alex’s eyes, seeing the vampire looking at him questioningly from the driver’s seat.

 

“Sorry, passed out I guess...” Dante grunted, pressing his palm against his left ear. Goddamn but that sound was getting annoying. He could only guess the vampire was still on a mission to force some food down his throat, which would be great and all if they had the cash to spare. They’d had to figuratively tighten their belts on more than one occasion over the years, but this was cutting it a little close. Even for them.

 

Dante clumsily tugged the rubber-banded stack of credit cards out of his inside jacket pocket and sifted through. The pile was running painfully low, culled every time a card got cancelled on them. They never lasted very long.

 

“Try one of these,” Dante pulled out the three or four most likely to work. “And keep your fingers crossed. Better to save the cash for a last resort...”

 

He stuffed away the remaining stack, blinking away the final tug of sleep. He watched through the glass and studied the line of Alex’s shoulders retreating.

 

Alone, Dante slumped into the seat and slowly lit a cigarette, rolling the window down to whisk the smoke away into the chilled air. The nicotine burned his lungs. He stared at the cardboard box in his hand, the same one that Alex had stolen for him. He wondered if the vampire had any idea how grateful he was for the little things like that.

 

That ache was back in his chest, the doubt and despair, and he knew he needed to fight it. All he could think about was how much he was slowing his partner down. How his human weaknesses, the way his body wore down hunt after hunt, fight after fight, were only putting the vampire in more danger. He wondered, not for the first time, if Alex ever resented him for that. Especially now, when it was Dante’s own kind reaching out of the past to hurt them. To hurt Alex.

 

The devil was in the details. Dante probably could have kicked that trunk open; silver was potent but not strong. And the hunter that had nearly killed Dante... Alex could have snapped his neck with a flick of his wrist. While usually they could find a way to work within one another’s strengths and weaknesses smoothly, it was a bit different when their enemies knew the same thing.

 

Dante sighed, rubbing at his eyes. He flicked his ashes out onto the pavement and lit a second cigarette. His bare arms, smeared with old blood and fresh bruises, prickled with goosebumps in the cold. The chill was brutal and refreshing, dragging his sluggish mind back from exhaustion even if it was only temporary.

 

Why now? Why had the church let him run for nearly half a decade only to crash back into his life now? What had suddenly changed?

 

~

  


_“Yeah, I can hear you,”_

 

If nothing else was going their way, at least now they were able to communicate again. Though Alex wasn’t sure how well Dante could hear him, or if there was more damage he didn’t know about yet. Knowing Dante could hear though, prompted Alex to turn the radio on, changing the station until he found something not too loud, but still something he was hopeful the hunter would like.

 

_“And I swear to god I’ll eat...” ... “I even tried to order pizza, remember?”_

 

“Yeah, I remember,” Alex confirmed, though his attention was focused on the road.

 

Even when looking away Alex could hear the grin in Dante’s voice. It was reassuring, both the sound and confirmation his partner might actually eat something and maybe, if they were lucky, keep it down. The mention of the pizza Dante tried to order made Alex’s mood falter a bit, knowing things might have gone differently if Alex had just ignored the sunglass-wearing douchebag.

 

“On second thought, the date wasn’t too bad, I just left with the wrong guy,” Alex said, mostly to himself, possibly with a hint of humor. “Joking aside, and because I’m pretty sure you didn’t hear much of me beating myself up, I am sorry I put us in that position. I’m not doing anything like that again soon, and only if we’re both up for it. I shouldn’t have treated it like a game.”

 

One of the many advantages that came with heightened hearing was Alex could hear the sound of Dante’s breath and heartbeat slow down to a resting rate. Even under the music gently emitting from the radio it was a small comfort to Alex, who hours ago was certain he might never see his hunter again. In those minutes between realizing he couldn’t break out and Dante getting him out of the trunk, Alex had mostly been worried about Dante, rather than himself. Right now, Dante’s presence alone was more than enough to put Alex’s nerves at ease.

 

_“Sorry, passed out I guess...”_

 

“Don’t be sorry,” Alex said, watching as the hunter tried to seem more awake and alert than he actually was at the moment. “You’re pretty sleep deprived, I’m sure you could use another few hours in the least. ...Also, is your ear alright?”

 

 _“Try one of these,” ... “And keep your fingers crossed. Better to save the cash for_ a last _resort...”_

 

“Alright,” Alex said, accepting the stack of cards Dante offered. In the early years, he’d been more than a little confused about paying for things with bits of plastic and he was still, on occasion, thwarted by a chip reader. “Any specific requests?” The vampire asked, knowing he didn’t have much in terms of options at a gas station. “Obviously, no unappetizing sandwiches.”

 

Upon leaving the car, though checking that it was locked, Alex turned and headed off towards the gas station. The entire time he was a little on edge, half expecting another catastrophe to strike. Once inside, Alex went directly to the drink aisle, grabbing more Gatorade, some water, and then browsed what few food options they had before picking up a number of things he thought Dante might like, based mostly on what he’d seen the hunter eat before. It wasn’t ideal, none of this was, but it had to do for now, though that was always what Alex told himself.

 

Going up to the counter to pay, Alex realized the cashier was propped up in a chair, gently snoring away and leaning back against the cigarette racks. By the looks of it, he was a fairly young person and not someone accustomed to the night shift. Glancing around, Alex contemplated simply walking out, but the cameras were an issue and he didn’t like the idea of having more heat on them over less than fifteen dollars worth of merchandise. Witches, Nikolai, hunters, and other things bumping around in the night were one thing, but Alex wasn’t about to add cops to the list of their troubles.

 

Just as Alex tapped the little chiming bell on the counter to try to wake the clerk, he heard a different chime by the door, indicating another customer had entered. Glancing over, Alex noticed the person who’d walked in looked kind of out of it, disoriented and dazed, though probably just on drugs. Still, he didn’t like the stare he was getting and was more than a little dismayed both at having a witness and a clerk who was still fast asleep.

 

“Kids these days,” Alex muttered, digging through his pockets with his free hand, ready to throw some cash on the counter and leave. “Can’t even pull an all-nighter like they used to...”

 

Before Alex could toss any sum of money, or any form of payment onto the counter, he heard the faint heartbeat of the tweaked out looking human approaching behind him. Gritting his teeth, Alex all but climbed onto the counter and reached across the distance to shake the clerk awake. The vampire was sure he was losing his mind from paranoia, but right then he wanted to get out and back into the car with Dante.

 

The clerk awoke with a start, looking first alarmed at Alex, then blushing a bit before jumping to his feet. The entire time, as the clerk tried to make small talk and Alex ran the first card, which got declined, then the second, which thankfully was approved, he felt eyes drilling into the back of his head. Silently, Alex hoped the tweaker wouldn’t try to mug him on the way out, that never ended well for potential muggers.

 

With everything in a bag, Alex turned on his heel, not even glancing at the human who had been standing behind him, before speed walking to the door, shouldering it open, and moving at the same speed over to the car. He doubted his nerves would well and truly let up until both of them were somewhere safe and secure to recover. Also, he was finding that being away from the hunter made him nervous and on edge.

 

Opening the driver’s car door, Alex climbed in and placed the bag onto the passenger’s seat before turning on the engine and slowly pulling out of the gas station. They still had plenty of gas, though they’d probably end up switching cars before that became an issue. As soon as he was on the road, unsure of whether to pick a nearby motel or head directly to the city, he turned back towards Dante, giving him a half-glance over the shoulder.

 

“So, did you want to find a motel for tonight out here or did you want to just head straight into the city?” He asked, knowing how little they had in funds available. “Also, I’m not sure if you’re up for eating yet? As in, you’re not going to puke if I hand you the bag, right?”

 

While so far Alex had been focused on the process of keeping his partner alive, he hadn’t really wanted to probe too much into questions of what exactly was going on around them. Clearly, something was different now, it was just a question of what and why. Not to mention, they still had the sunglass-wearing douche’s stuff to dig through to figure out just what his intent had been. Either way, the vampire was sure they’d figure out a corner or two in this puzzle once they had a moment to work on it.

 

~

  


_“On second thought, the date wasn’t too bad, I just left with the wrong guy. Joking aside, and because I’m pretty sure you didn’t hear much of me beating myself up, I am sorry I put us in that position. I’m not doing anything like that again soon, and only if we’re both up for it. I shouldn’t have treated it like a game.”_

 

Dante raised an eyebrow at that statement, wondering if exhaustion was causing him to read the subtext in the words that wasn’t there. He chose to ignore the first statement and focus on the second.

 

“Wasn’t just you,” Dante sighed. “We both should have been more careful. Guess that’s what we get for trying to pretend we’re normal.”

 

He felt ridiculously stupid, disappointed, bitter. That he had let himself forget for even an hour that this was his life. He didn’t get to play video games, eat pizza, drink whiskey. He didn’t get to pretend the darkness didn’t exist... or that it wasn’t a part of him.

 

_“Don’t be sorry. You’re pretty sleep deprived, I’m sure you could use another few hours in the least. ...Also, is your ear alright?”_

 

“Yeah,” Dante lied effortlessly. “I’ll be back in fighting shape in no time.”

 

There was no point in stressing over the things they couldn’t change. By this point in his life Dante knew all too well the difference between what might kill him and what just needed time. A ruptured eardrum and a bruised jaw were simply the collateral of surviving another day.

 

_“Alright. Any specific requests? Obviously, no unappetizing sandwiches.”_

 

“Food,” Dante retorted dryly, almost hearing the look he was about to get. His appetite was gone, as was usually the case when something was weighing on his mind, but he also knew he wouldn’t recover without real food. And if he didn’t recover, he was just making himself more of a drain on Alex. That was something he couldn’t risk.

 

*** 

 

When his partner finally returned to the car he was carrying a bag. Walking quickly. Dante took one look at him and could tell the vampire was rattled.

 

“What happened?” The hunter strained to look over his shoulder toward the gas station, but couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. At least no one was screaming and running. It was hard to tell if it was the general paranoia following them like a dark cloud, or something else altogether.

 

_“So, did you want to find a motel for tonight out here or did you want to just head straight into the city? Also, I’m not sure if you’re up for eating yet? As in, you’re not going to puke if I hand you the bag, right?”_

 

“Ah...” Dante ran a hand through his hair, trying to think. It really was the question of the century. Would New York be safer? At first thought the answer was a resounding ' _no_ ,' considering they both had enough connections in the city that anyone looking for them would be essentially shooting fish in a barrel there. On the other hand, if they stopped short of the city they had loss options. Less places to run or ways to hide.

 

“Maybe somewhere just inside the city?” Dante was thinking out loud, weighing the pros and cons. “Seems like a waste of time to camp out here, we’re already on the road. I think we have enough to pay a room. Maybe we can hole up for the day and head into the city at night.”

 

He had no idea if that was the right call. He had no idea if he should be making calls at all, if the past few days were any guide.

 

Knowing he definitely wasn’t going to get any more sleep in the car, Dante reached up and leaned the front passenger back so he could clamber up to sit next to Alex. Letting out a dramatic heavy sigh, he grabbed the bag of food and started sifting through it.

 

“My favorite,” he shook a bottle of blue Gatorade with a grin. Anything to try to lighten the mood, even if it was mostly an optimistic act at this point. The rest was mostly granola bars and almonds. “No junk food? Gee, thanks mom.”

 

The hunter really couldn’t complain. It wasn’t as if he needed either sugar or caffeine at this point. He opened a protein bar and was relieved to find his hungry stomach didn’t seem eager to chuck it back up. The rest disappeared in seconds, followed by most of the bottle of Gatorade in a long gulp.

  


“Before we do anything useful—like sleep—we need to go through that guy’s shit. See if there’s anything useful.” Dante talked around a mouthful of almonds, “I can already tell you though. If he’s got an ID at all it’s a fake, and car’s gonna be a rental. Or stolen.”

 

~

 

_“What happened?”_

 

“It’s...it was just...” Alex tried to seem calm, like his usual impassive self, instead he was stumbling over his words.

 

As the vampire gave it a moment, he felt both calmer and increasingly stupid and paranoid with how he was acting. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to actually tell Dante what was wrong. Alex had just happen to notice some weird guy and had been shaken up, which even to himself seemed stupid. If any ordinary, random human threatened him, Alex knew he’d have no difficulty snapping every bone in a would-be assailant’s body like a bundle of dry twigs. The last thing he needed was for Dante to lose confidence in him.

 

“I’m just a little on edge with everything that’s been happening,” Alex finally said, not wanting his partner to think he was actually losing it or jumping at shadows. “And I wanted to get back on the road sooner rather than later.”

 

_“Maybe somewhere just inside the city?”...“Seems like a waste of time to camp out here, we’re already on the road. I think we have enough to pay a room. Maybe we can hole up for the day and head into the city at night.”_

 

“That seems like a reasonable plan,” Alex commented, offhandedly. “It’d give us a place to sort through everything, get some rest, and maybe figure out what we’re going to do next. Still heading to Rafter’s tomorrow night?”

 

When it came down to it, if Alex thought a plan or idea was bad, he’d usually offer an alternative or just poke a hole in the most obvious flaw. Right now though, the rudimentary plan of action Dante had seemed like their best bet. Besides, there was no point in them jumping into more potentially life-threatening situations at this hour after so much had happened.

 

With Dante joining him up front, things seemed a bit more normal or as normal as it got for them. It also gave him some degree of optimism that they were both fine despite having a rough few days. They had been in worse situations, Alex was sure, but those tended to be a bit spread out, not all at once as if someone had it in for them. Though, with how things were going Alex couldn’t help but feel like yes, people were out to get them.

 

“‘Just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean they aren’t after you.’” Alex quoted to himself, starting to feel less ridiculous for fleeing a gas station over some random human acting odd.

 

 _“My favorite,” ... “No junk food? Gee, thanks_ mom _.”_

 

“You’re welcome, son,” Alex said without missing a beat in an overly dry tone, though even as the word ‘ _son_ ’ left his mouth he wanted to gag. For some reason he couldn’t put his finger on, it sounded wrong coming out of his mouth. “...I’m never saying that again,” he added a moment later.

 

_“Before we do anything useful—like sleep—we need to go through that guy’s shit. See if there’s anything useful.” ... “I can already tell you though. If he’s got an ID at all it’s a fake, and car’s gonna be a rental. Or stolen.”_

 

“I stuck all of his stuff in the glove compartment,” the vampire said, on the off chance that Dante wanted to skim through it while they drove to their destination.

 

The rest of the drive was relatively uneventful and Alex felt a bit more at peace once again. He doubted the peace would last, but he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. Eventually, they drove a bit until they were just outside of city limits. Even where they were, it was pretty populated and busy. It took a moment, but Alex found yet another hotel that looked within their price range and pulled into a parking space. The place was far from a Hilton or a Marriot and the parking lot had only two other vehicles, so Alex was confident there were vacancies.

 

“Oh, before I forget,” digging in his pockets, Alex retrieved the cards Dante had handed him earlier. “The top one didn’t work, the second one did, I’m not sure about the two at the bottom of the stack. Also, I’m thinking we should bring anything valuable inside. I’m not an expert on crime—” there was a pause as Alex mused over the irony “—but I think there’s a high chance we might come out to find all of our stuff missing, with how things have been going so far.”

 

“So...” Alex began, turning the car off, but not getting out just yet. He paused, trying to think of the best way to phrase what he wanted to ask without Dante taking it the wrong way. “You mentioned his tattoos being like yours, did you want to maybe elaborate on that?”

 

~

 

_“I stuck all of his stuff in the glove compartment...”_

 

Popping open the glove compartment, Dante pulled out the items his partner had managed to scrounge out of the destroyed vehicle. He shifted carefully through insurance papers—a rental, as he’d guessed—and a handful of nameless credit cards. He wondered how they’d managed to pull that one off. The ID was a good fake. Great in fact.

 

“Look at this thing,” he whistled in appreciation as he held it up to study in the glow of passing streetlights, “damn. Puts me to shame. Anthony Manzoni...” he shook his head with a smile. “Like the author. Kinda lazy, but I guess I can’t criticize when my middle name is Alighieri. Kinda on the nose with that one.”

 

He stared down at the bland DMV portrait of the man he’d killed a few hours ago, wondering what he should be feeling. “Looks different without the facial hair...” he mumbled almost to himself. He tucked the ID away, thinking maybe he could tighten up his skills by dissecting it later. Or pull it out and recount his sins. It would depend on his mood.

 

“Maybe there’s some money on these,” he changed the subject quickly, tapping the credit cards. “Then again, guess we can’t risk using them. They’re gonna be tracking them I’m sure.” He felt a little deflated. Another dead end.

 

Dante’s eyes drifted over the motel as they pulled up, old habits forcing him to look for danger where there couldn’t possibly be any. All told it wasn’t the worst place they’d ever holed up.

 

_“Oh, before I forget. The top one didn’t work, the second one did, I’m not sure about the two at the bottom of the stack. Also, I’m thinking we should bring anything valuable inside. I’m not an expert on crime—but I think there’s a high chance we might come out to find all of our stuff missing, with how things have been going so far.”_

 

“Greeeaaat...” Dante drug out the word like a curse as he took back the credit cards. “Another useless one. Walls are closing in.” He slotted the cards back into the stack, leaving the useless one at the back, wrong-side out to remind him to destroy it.

 

He had to agree about not leaving their gear in the car. They were barely keeping their heads above water as it was, they couldn’t afford to lose anything else.

 

_“So... You mentioned his tattoos being like yours, did you want to maybe elaborate on that?”_

 

Dante let out a long breath through his nose, pushing back into the seat behind him. “Guess so.”

 

He stared down at his hands, fingers cracked and caked with dried blood.

 

“Pro te, deus meus, ego calcantibus in tenebras lucem, ut praevalebunt....” The Latin wasn’t as smooth as it used to be, rolling off his tongue. It was a prayer he’d once been made to utter daily. Every morning, bare knees hitting a stone floor. Every night before a comfortless sleep. Every time he did wrong, real or perceived, as a cane fell on his shoulders like God's punishment. Before every hunt.

 

“For Thee, my God, I tread into darkness, that the light might prevail...” the human murmured, rubbing at a stubborn flake of crimson with his thumb. “There’s a lot of variations but that’s the gist of it. Hunters have been... praying, for lack of a better term... saying those words anyways, for centuries. Some delusion that they kill for a higher power.”

 

Pulling at the sleeve of his tattered t-shirt—yet another item they didn’t have the money to replace—Dante ran a hand down the intricate ink designs that covered the skin, shoulder to wrist.

 

“I added some on myself... later, but it’s all there. It started with this one,” he tapped the Saint Andrew’s cross on the outside of his bicep, a perfectly symmetrical four-pointed Celtic symbol ensconced in a twining circle, “some I earned with hunts. Kills, if we’re being blunt. Hell, looking back... I’m not even sure all of them were monsters. The church sure does love their witch hunts. Almost as much as their pride. Once they make a decision, that’s it. It’s over. You’re gone, or they are. Lotta hunters died that way.”

 

Dante slowly pulled his sleeve back down, partially hiding ink that was a little too faded for someone his age. “It’s how the brotherhood tracks their hunters. They start you off with the cross, usually when you’re fourteen or fifteen. Old enough they send you out on your first hunt, alone. If you survive they keep adding to it. Mr. Sunglasses-Douche? Might not look like much. But he’s been hunting a long time.”

 

Feeling a sour taste building in his mouth, Dante finished off the mostly-empty Gatorade bottle in two long swigs and popped the door open. “I’ll unload, if you don’t mind getting the room...” he gestured down at his blood-splattered clothing. “I probably shouldn’t be scaring the clerk.”

 

~

 

_“Look at this thing,” ... “damn. Puts me to shame. Anthony Manzoni...” ...“Like the author. Kinda lazy, but I guess I can’t criticize when my middle name is Alighieri. Kinda on the nose with that one.”_

 

“To be fair, he was much older than you and probably had more experience forging documents,” Alex mused. “...That reminds me, I lost my last ID about a week ago and...I might have neglected to say anything because of all the work you were putting into preparing for hunting that werewolf...”

 

_“Looks different without the facial hair...”_

 

“I’ve seen better,” Alex commented, giving his partner a sidelong glance, not referring to the quality of the ID itself in the slightest.

 

_“Maybe there’s some money on these,” ... “Then again, guess we can’t risk using them. They’re gonna be tracking them I’m sure.”_

 

“I’m sure they’re tracking us already, regardless of the cards,” the vampire commented, “I’m just curious as to how they’re doing it. I just can’t see a hunter, one prepared to try to catch a live vampire, camping out in a random arcade on the off chance a vampire would walk in,” he paused, pensively. “A vampire who happens to be more than willing to take the very specific bait he’d laid out. Not only did they know where we were, but they knew enough to know what would work to get me to leave with him like that.”

 

_“Greeeaaat...”...“Another useless one. Walls are closing in.”_

 

“New York City is crowded,” the vampire said with a shrug, “I’m sure I can swipe a few wallets tomorrow night or something until we can find work to do.”

 

_“For Thee, my God, I tread into darkness, that the light might prevail...” “There’s a lot of variations but that’s the gist of it. Hunters have been... praying, for lack of a better term... saying those words anyways, for centuries. Some delusion that they kill for a higher power.”_

 

Alex just listened as Dante uttered a phrase in Latin, then explained the significance it held for this group of hunters. He watched as Dante ran a hand along the series of tattoos spanning his entire arm. Later on, Alex might ask about the specifics of each design, but here and now he wasn’t willing to interrupt until Dante was done with his explanation of the tattoos.

 

“ _I added some on myself... later, but it’s all there. It started with this one,” ... “some I earned with hunts. Kills, if we’re being blunt. Hell, looking back... I’m not even sure all of them were monsters. The church sure does love their witch hunts. Almost as much as their pride. Once they make a decision, that’s it. It’s over. You’re gone, or they are. Lotta hunters died that way.”_

 

Briefly, Alex mused how many innocent people had been killed by the church this way. He was well aware there was a day and age when all people suspected of being anything out of the ordinary were killed and it being a big, hysterical public spectacle. The idea of the same thing happening, in secret, well into the modern age wasn’t necessarily jarring. Right then he didn’t want to mention how many hunters might die coming after them.

 

_“It’s how the brotherhood tracks their hunters. They start you off with the cross, usually when you’re fourteen or fifteen. Old enough they send you out on your first hunt, alone. If you survive they keep adding to it. Mr. Sunglasses-Douche? Might not look like much. But he’s been hunting a long time.”_

 

“Okay, so we’ve got a cult of hunters after us,” Alex said, evenly, really just trying to process everything. “But we’ve also had a powerful coven of vampires after us once.”

 

The most obvious issue Alex ran into, as he contemplated the situation, was that these hunters were human. On principle, he didn’t actually hurt or kill people unless they posed a direct threat to Dante or himself. That being said, the idea of potentially killing off anyone else they sent after them didn’t bother Alex. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure if Dante would be all for hunting hunters. Then again, as it was they were the ones at a disadvantage, not the Bible thumpers coming after them.

 

“So...” the vampire trailed off, knowing there was no easy way to ask the question he was about to ask. “What do you think we should do if more come after us? Because from what I’m hearing this isn’t going to stop until we’re dead.”

 

Beyond the analytic side of things, Alex was having a hard time managing his own feelings on the matter. Just the thought of a group of fanatical old men slapping tattoos on a kid and sending him off to possibly die alone made him see red in a more figurative sense. Even worse was picturing Dante, younger than Alex had ever seen him, being sent off to hunt monsters alone. At this point, Alex doubted he’d be personally conflicted ripping out a few throats if these people kept coming after them. What made that line of thinking tap the breaks was the simple fact that he was more concerned about what Dante wanted.

 

 _“I’ll_ _unload, if you don’t mind getting the room...” ... “I probably shouldn’t be scaring the clerk.”_

 

“That’s some irony there,” Alex mused as he too climbed out of the car. “Sending in a literal blood-drinking monster to avoid scaring the clerk I mean.”

 

Heading inside, Alex was glad the place was basically empty and the only other person was the clerk behind the desk. Thankfully, this one was awake, though he looked like he was ready for a shift change soon. As Alex paid for the room, he glanced around a bit, even looking over his shoulder. So far, so good, nothing out of the ordinary popped up, which was a relief after everything else.

 

Taking the keycard, he exited the office and headed back over to the car where Dante was unloading. The room they had was somewhere in the middle, just to the right of where Alex had parked. Heading to the door, Alex unlocked it and propped it open before going back to help unload whatever was still in the car and get it into the hotel room.

 

~

 

_“...That reminds me, I lost my last ID about a week ago and...I might have neglected to say anything because of all the work you were putting into preparing for hunting that werewolf...”_

 

Dante restrained the heavy sigh that was his first impulse, not because Alex had lost his ID but because it was just another pile of shit on top of the colossal dung heap they were already buried under. One more way they were weaker, vulnerable, behind the curve. Still, he didn’t want Alex thinking he was frustrated with him. Hell Dante had lost more fake IDs over the course of the years than Alex had ever even had.

 

“No worries. I’ll make you a new one,” the hunter nodded instead, already thinking of what he’d need from their gear. “Maybe a couple for backups. Any name requests? There’s always time to get creative,” he flashed a wink at his partner, “Mr. Bram Stoker.“

 

_“I’ve seen better.”_

 

Dante was extremely glad he’d just swallowed his drink because he might have actually spit it out at those words. He made a point of not looking over at Alex, knowing the vampire was already focusing back on the road. He wondered if his partner had any idea the things that came out of his mouth sometimes. He was almost certain he didn’t. And very certain he didn’t mean them the way they sounded.

 

Dante shifted in his seat, darting a glance into the mirror to catch a glimpse of Alex’s face. Just as he thought. Nothing.

 

_“I’m sure they’re tracking us already, regardless of the cards, I’m just curious as to how they’re doing it. I just can’t see a hunter, one prepared to try to catch a live vampire, camping out in a random arcade on the off chance a vampire would walk in... A vampire who happens to be more than willing to take the very specific bait he’d laid out. Not only did they know where we were, but they knew enough to know what would work to get me to leave with him like that.”_

 

Alex was right of course, and the hunter chewed on his lip as he mulled over those observations.

 

“They knew we were going to be there,” it was both a question and a statement. The fact was pretty obvious, unfortunately. “We didn’t even know we were gonna be there. Not until like half an hour before. It’s literally impossible. Unless they found some way to read the future...” as ridiculous as it sounded, it wasn’t like they hadn’t witnessed the impossible before.

 

“They aren’t after a random vampire,” Dante stated the obvious, “they’re after you. Because of me. So... I guess I owe you an apology that my psychotic cult tried to have you killed...” he looked away sheepishly. “Still can’t figure out how they sealed the trunk like that though. That’s pretty new. If witches are involved somehow, it would be the first I’ve ever heard of Saint Andrew’s working with them.”

 

Witches and vampires had been considered two sides of the same evil coin by the founders of the church, sparking the witch hunts of the late 1600s and coinciding with the construction of the basilica. Although the hunters had long ago shifted their sights to vampires and other creatures of the night, seeing them as the greater threat, it didn’t change much on their feelings for witches. It would be unthinkable for them to have so drastically changed their tune... but there didn’t seem to be many other options.

 

“Shit. I honestly can’t figure it out,” the hunter shook his head, frustrated. “It’s like they know everything about us. I’m just hoping Rafter’s people will have answers. Or at the very least, supplies.”

 

_“Okay, so we’ve got a cult of hunters after us... But we’ve also had a powerful coven of vampires after us once.”_

 

“They found out I was with you,” Dante was positive of it. “Only reason they’d be here nowhere. Kinda impressed it took em so long, and that they waited this long to come after me. I think they were just relieved I was gone at first. Now though... it concerns me that they were trying to take you instead of going for the kill. That’s... unusual.”

 

_“So... What do you think we should do if more come after us? Because from what I’m hearing this isn’t going to stop until we’re dead.”_

 

Dante didn’t have an answer for that.

 

“We have to protect ourselves...” he whispered finally, wishing he believed that. Because if they started killing humans, what did that make them?

 

It would be so, so different if not for Alex. Hell, Dante probably would have dropped to his knees and spread his arms and felt nothing but relief that the war was finally over for him. He would have let a human hunter, one of his own kind, put a gun to his head and say that stupid prayer and end it. He would never admit that to Alex; how could he? How did he tell his partner that before the vampire came along, he was hunting himself down a fast track to oblivion? Dante had known there was no life for him outside stone walls and bloodshed, even when he ran. He knew. He had figured he could give the brothers one final middle finger by dying on his own terms instead of theirs.

 

Now, for the first time, Dante wanted to live. He needed to.

 

Dante mechanically unloaded the vehicle, leaving the hard plastic cases in a neat row on the sidewalk. His mind was a million miles away, torn between feeling that same old cold empty nothingness, and feeling everything. He followed Alex when he came back with a keycard, ensuring everything was out of the vehicle. It would make leaving in a hurry a lot more difficult if it came down to that, but the risk of losing what little they had left was greater.

 

Dante glanced longingly at the mattress as they moved inside the room, his bones literally aching at the idea of some real sleep. It could wait. They had too much to take care of first.

 

“Do you think I shouldn’t have killed him?” Dante spoke out of the blue, not really thinking about what he was saying. He ducked his head, feeling foolish, and busied himself with his heavy canvas duffel. “I mean maybe I could have... I don’t know, found a way to keep him alive.”

 

He knew even as he said it that it was ridiculous. Thinking back, it was a miracle he’d been able to come out on top at all, weak from exhaustion and blood loss and sheer stress. But it was nagging at him, more so because he’d never lifted a finger against one of his own before. It didn’t feel right. As much as he had come to hate the priests of Saint Andrew’s, hurting them had never crossed his mind. He wondered if this was how Alex felt when they hunted vampires, and felt selfish for never considering that before.

 

~

 

_“No worries. I’ll make you a new one,” ... “Maybe a couple for backups. Any name requests? There’s always time to get creative,” ... “Mr. Bram Stoker.“_

 

“There’s no rush, but inevitably I’m going to get ID’d for something at some point,” Alex replied, knowing getting a new ID wasn’t a major concern for them right this moment. When Dante winked at him, Alex was glad he couldn’t blush. “If you insist on ‘Bram Stoker’ then I’m going to be disappointed if you don’t make a Van Helsing reference on one of your own IDs. ...I don’t actually think I have a name preference, as long as you don’t make any references to...what was it called? ‘Dusk’ or ‘Early Evening?’ That book series with the boring girl protagonist and the ‘vampire’ watching her sleep?”

 

All things considered, Alex was trying to be subtle with the hints he was dropping, but he was sure he was a little bit obvious about what he’d meant when he’d said he’d seen better. A bit ago he’d even said he believed he left the arcade with the wrong person and who else would he leave with? The lack of response from Dante just left him a little crest-fallen, so his attention remained fixed on the road. Maybe Dante was too tired for this, Alex thought, or rather hoped.

 

_“They knew we were going to be there,”... “We didn’t even know we were gonna be there. Not until like half an hour before. It’s literally impossible. Unless they found some way to read the future...”_

 

“This whole predicament is perplexing, but at least we know it’s not a coincidence,” Alex murmured, though the understanding didn’t alleviate any of his worry. “I feel like they have to be tracking us, if they could somehow read the future, wouldn’t they have known the hunter they sent was going to die? If they knew what would happen, they would have sent reinforcements from the beginning. Someone somewhere has to have answers, we just have to dig around.”

 

_“They aren’t after a random vampire,” ... “they’re after you. Because of me. So... I guess I owe you an apology that my psychotic cult tried to have you killed...” ... “Still can’t figure out how they sealed the trunk like that though. That’s pretty new. If witches are involved somehow, it would be the first I’ve ever heard of Saint Andrew’s working with them.”_

 

“I never thought I’d be this popular,” Alex mused dryly. “My psychotic sire and your psychotic cult, amazing. It’s like having in-laws from Hell, but worse because they seem to want us both dead.”

 

“I’m...actually super curious about how the trunk was sealed like that. I initially thought it was some kind of...anti-undead ward or... You know how I can’t enter a dwelling without an invitation? It felt like that, like no matter how hard I pushed it wouldn’t budge. Actually, the more I pushed and struggled, the tighter it seemed to get.” Alex sighed, wishing they’d had more time to investigate and poke around the trunk. “Witches aren’t the only people who can use magic, maybe it wasn’t even ‘magic’ exactly? And who’s to say they would need to work with witches to use something invented by witches?”

 

_“Shit. I honestly can’t figure it out,” ... “It’s like they know everything about us. I’m just hoping Rafter’s people will have answers. Or at the very least, supplies.”_

 

“I know that we’ve stuck together for so long, but I feel like this is bigger than the two of us,” Alex said evenly. “We could use some help, in any form, at this point. Most hunters hunt in groups, don’t they? ...I know there are some that’ll have nothing to do with us, because of me, but it’s something to consider. We can only do so much with two of us.”

 

“They found out I was with you,” Dante was positive of it. “Only reason they’d be here nowhere. Kinda impressed it took em so long, and that they waited this long to come after me. I think they were just relieved I was gone at first. Now though... it concerns me that they were trying to take you instead of going for the kill. That’s... unusual.”

 

“What reasons would they have for taking me alive...or, well, alive-ish?” Alex asked, though it was a bit rhetorical as he suspected that at this point the most either of them could do would be to speculate. “From the sound of it, they sound like the type to kill vampires on sight... It has to be because of us hunting together, if I were anyone else, I’m sure he would have wasted no time in dusting me.”

 

_“We have to protect ourselves...”_

 

“That might entail hurting people, human people at that,” Alex said evenly. When he was human himself, he wouldn’t have cared, but undeath had left him in a perpetual state of wanting to atone for all that he’d done over his short life.

 

_“Do you think I shouldn’t have killed him?”...“I mean maybe I could have... I don’t know, found a way to keep him alive.”_

 

“If...it’s any consolation, we’d both be dead right now if you hadn’t killed him.” Alex said as they moved the last of their things into the room. “It sounded like he wasn’t going to stop until you were dead and I wouldn’t have been able to fight him off in the state I was in at the time. I think you made a difficult choice, but the alternative would have been worse for us both. He was human, but in this case it was no different than a werewolf trying to maul us.”

 

With them and all their supplies inside, Alex closed the door behind them and locked it. He was 75% sure the car would either be stolen or broken into by morning, but that wasn’t a major concern right then. Looking around the room, Alex knew it wasn’t much, but it was better than nothing. Pausing a moment, he realized there was a lot to do and his mind was a bit jumbled. Going through Mr. Sunglass Wearing Douches’ stuff was something to do, but more importantly, Alex wanted Dante to take care of himself even if it was just for today.

 

“So...” Alex trailed off, eyeing the mud on his clothing, being lucky enough not to have blood on him. “I can do the laundry if you want to handle going through whatever else that creep was carrying on him? I mean, that was probably the gist of it, but he had to have something telling him where we’d be or...maybe something explaining what that sealing thing in the trunk was?”

 

As he spoke, Alex slipped his jacket and unabomber hoodie off, then went to undo the laces of hits boots to avoid tracking more mud into the room. His socks and jeans came off next, his daggers finding their way onto the table, leaving him in just the t-shirt and boxers he’d had on for the last day or so. What he had on now were the only articles of clothing not muddy from Dante pulling him out of a trunk. He waited for Dante’s clothing and hoped he wouldn’t insist on laundering their things by himself again. While he waited, he considered the guilt Dante might feel over what had happened hours before.

 

“Did...did I ever tell you about the first time I killed someone?” Alex said, his voice soft, small almost, as if he were about to confess to some horrible crime.

 

~

 

_“If you insist on ‘Bram Stoker’ then I’m going to be disappointed if you don’t make a Van Helsing reference on one of your own IDs.”_

 

Dante grinned widely at the idea, already scheming, “okay smartass, should I go with Abraham Van Helsing, or Archangel Gabriel? You know how I love a challenge.”

 

_“...I don’t actually think I have a name preference, as long as you don’t make any references to...what was it called? ‘Dusk’ or ‘Early Evening?’ That book series with the boring girl protagonist and the ‘vampire’ watching her sleep?”_

 

“Oh, yeah… Your summary is actually better than the whole series combined from what I hear. It’s Twilight by the way. The book. And I think we’re both better off not knowing any more than that.”

 

_“I never thought I’d be this popular… My psychotic sire and your psychotic cult, amazing. It’s like having in-laws from Hell, but worse because they seem to want us both dead.”_

 

Dante smirked at the analogy, already imagining it. “But it would sure make for one hell of a Thanksgiving dinner.”

 

_“I’m...actually super curious about how the trunk was sealed like that. I initially thought it was some kind of...anti-undead ward or... You know how I can’t enter a dwelling without an invitation? It felt like that, like no matter how hard I pushed it wouldn’t budge. Actually, the more I pushed and struggled, the tighter it seemed to get. Witches aren’t the only people who can use magic, maybe it wasn’t even ‘magic’ exactly? And who’s to say they would need to work with witches to use something invented by witches?”_

 

“It’s gotta be some form of seal, magical or religious, doesn’t matter much. It was damn effective. Hopefully I can get my hands on it; it would sure come in useful for hunts later on.” It still bothered Dante a little that the brotherhood, normally so stoic and traditional in their age-old practices, seemed to be picking up some new tricks. It was out of character, and he wasn’t sure what that meant.

 

_“I know that we’ve stuck together for so long, but I feel like this is bigger than the two of us...We could use some help, in any form, at this point. Most hunters hunt in groups, don’t they? ...I know there are some that’ll have nothing to do with us, because of me, but it’s something to consider. We can only do so much with two of us.”_

 

_“Yeah. The bigger the better. Safety in numbers.”_

 

Dante felt a twinge of something unfamiliar. Regret, possibly. Loneliness. Hunters operated in groups as a rule, that was true. They became closer than family, and sometimes they were that as well. But not him. It had been made explicitly clear to him at every turn that he didn’t belong anywhere. Not with the church, who took him in as a favor to his father and an act of charity for some holy cause, and not with humans. It was a sense of belonging he’d watched from afar and secretly craved like a drug. And it was a fix he’d only ever found with Alex. Partner, family, and something more he didn’t dare put a name to. It worried him when Alex brought the topic up…. Always made him wonder if the vampire was really happy living like this. With him.

 

“I still have some allies, even if they’re not big fans of my life choices,” Dante kicked off his boots with less than his usual grace. “Well. I guess if I’m being technical my father still has allies. I try to avoid calling in this favors if I can help it, but I feel like our situation is just shit enough to make it our best option. You're right... we could definitely use a hand right about now.”

 

_“What reasons would they have for taking me alive...or, well, alive-ish? From the sound of it, they sound like the type to kill vampires on sight... It has to be because of us hunting together, if I were anyone else, I’m sure he would have wasted no time in dusting me.”_

 

“Bingo,” Dante monotoned bitterly, “it’s personal for them. Prideful little pricks. Funny how I’m a cursed little mutt bastard my whole life and now suddenly I’m full-blooded enough to shame the family. If I had to guess--and it is just a guess--they might want to know how much I told you about the church. And if I told anyone else.”

 

Dante kicked his duffel bag away half-heartedly, not bothering to pull out fresh clothes until he’d had a chance to clean himself up. He didn’t even have the energy to catalogue their gear and supplies or organize the boxes like he usually did with borderline obsessive care. The past two days had taken too much out of him.

 

_“If...it’s any consolation, we’d both be dead right now if you hadn’t killed him.”_

 

It wasn’t any consolation, but at the very least it confirmed Dante’s hope… that Alex didn’t judge him. He never had of course, but it didn’t stop Dante from testing the waters. Hoping against hope that they never burned him. Dante nodded slowly, unable to formulate a response that didn't sound pathetic to his own ears.

 

_“So… I can do the laundry if you want to handle going through whatever else that creep was carrying on him? I mean, that was probably the gist of it, but he had to have something telling him where we’d be or...maybe something explaining what that sealing thing in the trunk was?”_

 

“Yeah. Sounds like a plan.” The hunter was too tired to come up with anything else, secretly relieved to have someone taking the lead even temporarily. His brain hurt. Everything hurt.

 

Half zoned-out, Dante’s eyes lingered for a moment on his partner as he stripped, tracing the lines of his arms with his eyes as the vampire moved. He blinked and looked away quickly, unable to process what it might mean to be caught staring.

 

For the sake of staying occupied he wordlessly followed Alex’s cue, turning away to hide the grimace of pain as he held his breath and pulled his t-shirt over his head. His entire body was sore and aching, his left ear throbbing as the cloth brushed over it. Trophies of a battle hard-fought, and barely won. There had been too many of those lately.

 

The hunter bunched up his t-shirt, followed by socks and jeans, and silently passed them over to Alex. He nodded his thanks and moved across the room, collecting the odds and ends he still hadn’t sorted through from the wrecked vehicle. He stared again at the bed, thinking of spreading out, but he knew if he touched it he wouldn’t be awake for much longer. Instead he slid down at the foot of the mattress, sitting on the floor with his back against the dingy motel comforter.

 

_“Did...did I ever tell you about the first time I killed someone?”_

 

“No,” said Dante simply, “I don’t think so.” He hoped Alex would tell him, but didn’t dare press. The hunter pulled his legs up, papers spread out in his lap and let his partner talk.

 

~

 

_“Okay smartass, should I go with Abraham Van Helsing, or Archangel Gabriel? You know how I love a challenge.”_

 

“Why not both then?” Alex said, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’ll admit, ‘Abraham’ is a bit old fashioned for someone your age. Gabriel is a bit more timeless and might stand out less on a fake ID.”

 

_“But it would sure make for one hell of a Thanksgiving dinner.”_

 

“You never know, they might kill each other and save us the trouble,” Alex tried to imagine sitting at a large table with Dante, his old coven on one side and the cult of crazies on the other. “It’d be a bloodbath.”

 

_“It’s gotta be some form of seal, magical or religious, doesn’t matter much. It was damn effective. Hopefully I can get my hands on it; it would sure come in useful for hunts later on.”_

 

“It was a bit too effective in my opinion,” Alex stated, implying if they ever got their hands on that particular seal, he’d be keeping his distance from anything it was placed on. “I think I’d rather take a glass of holy water to the face than getting stuck like that again.”

 

_“Yeah. The bigger the better. Safety in numbers.” ... “I still have some allies, even if they’re not big fans of my life choices,” ... “Well. I guess if I’m being technical my father still has allies. I try to avoid calling in this favors if I can help it, but I feel like our situation is just shit enough to make it our best option. You're right... we could definitely use a hand right about now.”_

 

“We can make allies of our own too,” Alex said, evenly. In truth, he doubted any ordinary hunter would jump at the chance to join them on an ongoing suicide mission. “I mean, there could be other non-humans like me, or a renegade witch, or something. Both of us can kill monsters just fine, but having some sort of back up or support would be nice.”

 

_“Bingo,” ... “it’s personal for them. Prideful little pricks. Funny how I’m a cursed little mutt bastard my whole life and now suddenly I’m full-blooded enough to shame the family. If I had to guess--and it is just a guess--they might want to know how much I told you about the church. And if I told anyone else.”_

 

“Huh, I guess telling them I know next to nothing would only make them kill me faster,” Alex pondered, “I’ve never known anyone to pretend to know something just to prolong an interrogation. A guess is the best we have right now, maybe they have other reasons, maybe they don’t, but I don’t think I’d have long to live if they’re ever successful in tossing me into a trunk again, which is unlikely, by the way.”

 

_“Yeah. Sounds like a plan.”_

 

Alex collected their muddy clothing and disappeared into the bathroom for a bit. He repeated the same process he’d seen Dante do countless times. It was oddly relaxing, a repetitive task that let him contemplate their situation, among other things. While scrubbing their clothing clean, Alex pondered Dante’s non-reactions to every hint of wanting to possibly be more than just friends and hunting partners. He couldn’t consider any other reason for the lack of a reaction other than Dante plain and simple wasn’t interested in him that way. For a moment, he wondered if he should stop, but it wasn’t as if he was always aware of how the things he said might sound until after they slipped out.

 

Having cleaned their clothing and left it to dry in the bathroom, Alex came over and sat on the bed behind Dante. He knew he should probably go through and handle the cataloging and organizing that Dante normally did. Right then though, despite not really needing to ‘rest’ in the normal sense, he felt tired and older than he had any right to feel even at 119 years old.

 

_“No,” ... “I don’t think so.”_

 

Alex paused, wishing he had time and the nerve to go into the gritty details of his early life, because he wasn’t sure how much context would be needed. The events leading up to the first time he’d killed someone were somewhat nebulous in the sense that he probably didn’t need to explain much. Still, Alex almost felt like he was keeping a secret from Dante by not telling him everything about who he was as a human.


	5. This Could Be Heaven or This Could Be Hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wound licking and some story swapping.

“I was twelve at the time,” Alex said, slowly, “my guardian was a man named Vincent who took me in when I was ten...he was twenty-five at the time, I believe.”

 

Once more stopping, Alex felt like he was doing Vincent a disservice by telling Dante about him like this. When Alex had been older, things had changed between himself and his mentor, and he wasn’t sure if Dante would understand. Then again, he felt like the details would only push Dante away from him and he didn’t want that.

 

“So...Vincent had something of an inner circle, it was a business thing,” Alex clarified while evading the true nature of the ‘ _family business_.’ “There was a man in this inner circle who was something of a social climber, always out for more money, more power, more status. Nothing seemed off at the start, they were all ambitious men in an industrious age, but this man was...I don’t know...even know I don’t have the first idea what made him do what he did.”

 

Pausing, Alex knew he was stumbling over his words a bit in places and was having a hard time talking about what had happened. Nothing had actually happened, thankfully, mostly because Vincent realized something was up.

 

“One night, their weekly poker night I think, I woke up to find Vincent beating the guy’s face to a bloody pulp,” Alex shook his head a bit at the memory.

 

He’d never seen Vincent so angry. The one time that came close was when he remembered the look on his guardian’s face when he first saw Alex. At the age of ten, covered in bruises, cuts, and burns in the run-down boarding house he’d lived in with his father prior to Vincent becoming his guardian and mentor. Even the last time Alex had seen Vincent, during their argument, the older man hadn’t been nearly as angry, just protective and stubborn.

 

“I...didn’t understand the details at the time, but the man had crept into my room when everyone else was supposedly drunk,” a soft, mirthless laugh passed Alex’s lips. “Vincent wasn’t one to get drunk, thankfully, and he arrived just in time.”

 

Alex thought back to that night, two of Vincent’s lackeys hauling the bloodied man out of his room while Vincent crouched at Alex’s bedside. At first, Alex had thought he was in trouble as Vincent urgently asked him if the man had hurt him at all. It wasn’t until his guardian pulled him into a tight hug that Alex realized he might have been in danger moments before Vincent had arrived.

 

“It was a blur after that,” Alex continued, forcing himself to try to finish the story. “The next clear memory I have after that is holding a gun, aiming it at the man’s forehead from across the basement. There was a...a makeshift shooting range down there. The man was tied to a chair, his face was already a mess. I was shaking so badly that Vincent had to hold my hands steady, but it was me who pulled the trigger. From that moment on, it was...it’s hard to describe, but after that I didn’t feel sympathy for people who would hurt me or people I care about. ”

 

“I don’t know if hearing any of that helped,” the vampire said, his voice steadier now, “but I guess I want you to know I wouldn’t think differently of you for killing someone who would have killed us. I never lost sleep over killing a man who’d planned on abducting me to try to get some leverage over Vincent.”

 

~

 

_“We can make allies of our own too… I mean, there could be other non-humans like me, or a renegade witch, or something. Both of us can kill monsters just fine, but having some sort of back up or support would be nice.”_

 

“I guess I can play nice for a little while,” Dante wasn’t a big fan of the idea as a rule, but desperate times called for desperate measures he supposed. “At least ask around and see if I can find anyone who might have some common enemies.”

 

It was easier to imagine finding someone to help them ward off angry witches or fight vampires. The idea of recruiting someone to help him kill his own kind made his stomach turn. It was confusing, to spend so long hating them, only to realize he only wanted them out of his life. Not dead.

 

Dante listened to the comforting sounds of his partner in the bathroom, grateful to him for taking on the task of scrubbing their ruined clothes. Forcing his eyes to focus was a chore as he sifted through the collection of odds and ends spread out in his lap. The most promising bit was a thin moleskin notebook, filled mostly with nonsensical scribbles. Series’ of numbers and what he assumed were coded words he didn’t understand. There were several pages containing symbols he’d never seen, and a carefully drawn image surrounded with what might have been runes. It was possible this was the seal they were after, but he had no idea what the language was surrounding it. He was familiar with many of the seals and languages designed to entrap demons, but this was something else altogether. There weren’t even any familiar letters to try to start interpreting.

 

Alex was right, Dante mused. It was definitely time for an outside opinion. For the first time, they were in well over their heads.

 

Yanking his own bag a little closer, Dante pulled out his journal and flipped towards the back to find a clear page. Scribbling the date at the top, he began carefully transcribing what little legible information he could actually read. It was frustrating that it all looked like gibberish. The two measly pages containing what he could only hope were some kind of wiccan symbols he tore out and tucked into the pages where he’d made his entry. After double and then triple-checking that there was nothing else in the notebook he’d overlooked, even conducting a quick smell check to rule out the possibility of invisible ink, he chucked it across the room into the trash bin. His aim wasn’t up to his usual standards, but he managed to bounce it in off the wallpaper. The risks of keeping it and having to answer awkward questions later if it was recognized weren’t worth the cost. Better safe than sorry.

 

Leaning his head back against the mattress behind him, Dante squeezed his eyes shut and took a moment to orient himself. The sound of running water from the other room was soothing, comforting, familiar.

 

If he was being honest, it was crushingly difficult to keep his emotions locked up around Alex right now. He was run too ragged, stretched too thin to keep up the facade. Even a few short minutes out of his sight was a blessing.

 

He longed for his partner in a way that wasn’t healthy, and he was painfully aware of that. It was something he ran through from every angle in his head in the dark hours of the night, analyzed and rationalized and tried to tamp down. His greatest fear was that his bleak, solitary life had led him here... to this dark place where his starving soul was quick to interpret even friendship as something more than it was. He knew all of that, knew how ridiculous he was being, but that wasn’t enough to stop him.

 

It could ruin everything.

 

The hunter sat up straight when he heard the water turn off, blinking himself out of his stupor and taking a few deep breaths. He sent a grateful half-smile his partner’s way, feeling a pang of regret at how tired Alex looked. And he knew how much it took to wear out a vampire. He guessed it was a good thing they could both get a chance to rest, even for just one night.

 

Dante listened, carefully impassive as Alex spoke, glad the vampire couldn’t see his face. He didn’t want to interrupt, which was difficult when it was literally in his nature to ask questions. To learn and investigate. He’d come to understand long ago that there were certain things in the vampire’s past, particularly in his human life, that he did not wish to share with Dante. It was difficult not to be understanding of that. At the same time, the human needed Alex to know that it was safe to tell him anything.

 

Listening quietly had never been so difficult, but somehow he managed. He felt a pang of sympathy at the obvious difficulty his partner was having. They weren’t exactly the touchy-feely type, and yet he had the nearly irresistible urge to reach out to his partner. At the very least, to make sure he knew that he could say pretty much anything at this point and Dante would still be there. Hell, the vampire could turn on him, hurt him, drain every drop of blood from the hunter’s body if he wanted to. Dante would let him. And he didn’t know why that thought didn’t terrify him like it should.

 

_“I don’t know if hearing any of that helped, but I guess I want you to know I wouldn’t think differently of you for killing someone who would have killed us. I never lost sleep over killing a man who’d planned on abducting me to try to get some leverage over Vincent.”_

 

“Thank you…” Dante said at last, “for telling me. And you know…” he shrugged one shoulder, “I’m the last person who would ever judge you for that. For doing what you had to do to survive.”

 

It wasn’t pitying or patronizing, just the simple truth of their lives. They survived.

 

“I guess it just might take me some time to get used to the idea. Of killing humans. Feels like it kinda just, rips the high ground right out from under us. Maybe that was true a long time ago anyways, and I’ve just been lying to myself.” Sighing heavily, Dante slowly eased to his feet, feeling his bones creak in protest.

 

He dropped a hand onto Alex’s shoulder, squeezing tightly before dropping away. He didn’t dare to linger.

 

“Give me five,” he sighed, “I smell fucking ripe.”

 

Retreating briefly to the bathroom he took what have been the quickest rinse of his life, just enough to clean the mud and blood and gunk from his hair and skin. He pulled on a clean pair of boxers and padded back into the bedroom, falling onto the mattress with a sigh.

 

“Nothing I could make sense of in that hunter’s stuff,” Dante rubbed at his eyes hard. “Some promising witchy-voodoo shit. Enough to ask around about, but I couldn’t read it.”

 

Turning onto his stomach the hunter buried his face in a thin pillow with groan. “I just want one night where nobody tries to kill us. Just one,” he griped, voice muffled. The past week felt like it had lasted years. All things considered the universe owed them a break.

 

~

 

_“Thank you… for telling me. And you know… I’m the last person who would ever judge you for that. For doing what you had to do to survive.”_

 

On some level, Alex knew Dante’s words were meant to sound comforting, reassuring even, and yet... They made Alex feeling worse about all the things Dante didn’t know about. True, Alex’s first kill had been against an evil man who had intended to hurt him. After that though, Vincent realized how much danger his ward would be in and precautions were taken. Those precautions just happened to entail Alex being trained to kill, other humans specifically, mostly bad, but a few good and plenty of them innocent. Despite the immoral choice to have a prepubescent boy taught how to handle fire arms, bladed weapons, and how to throw a punch, Vincent hadn’t simply thrown him in to see if he could swim. Until Alex was able to prove he could handle himself, his guardian always sent two of his lackeys to keep tabs on Alex, regardless of what the job presented before him was. His first kill had been both reassurance for a shaken up child and an initiation into a darker world.

 

“I don’t take killing something lightly,” Alex said with a shrug. “In the least, I only kill things that are evil or things that are trying to kill me. ...I suppose it’s a bit of a moral dilemma, judging good and evil in another being, being judge, jury, and executioner and all that.”

 

_“I guess it just might take me some time to get used to the idea. Of killing humans. Feels like it kinda just, rips the high ground right out from under us. Maybe that was true a long time ago anyways, and I’ve just been lying to myself.”_

 

“Hopefully we can avoid it, if possible,” Alex replied evenly as Dante rose from where he’d been sitting.

 

Feeling Dante’s hand on his shoulder a moment later surprised Alex. It was nice, actually, feeling the warmth even if the t-shirt he was wearing was in the way. Another moment later it was gone and Alex almost wanted to reach out and grab that same hand and place it back on his shoulder, or maybe hold it in his own hands... Both ideas were ridiculous and Alex could only imagine how Dante might react and he wasn’t going to risk that reaction being a negative one.

 

_“Give me five,” ... “I smell fucking ripe.”_

 

“I’m well aware,” Alex commented, tapping his own nose as a subtle reminder of his unfortunately keen sense of smell. “If I’m going to be honest though, the blood on you doesn’t smell that bad.”

 

While Dante was in the shower, Alex went through to find the familiar worn symbol of a medical cross on a beaten old canvas satchel. Opening it up, he dug out his contact case. It made no sense to keep them in, seeing no reason to keep up the ‘blend in’ ruse up when it was just them, alone, in a hotel room, sharing a bed, with both of them barely dressed. Taking both lenses out, he deposited them into their case before tucking them back into his bag, while also retrieving his journal. With how eventful things were, he knew he had a lot to catch up on since the other day when he’d last written in it about their werewolf hunt.

 

Walking back over to the bed, Alex paused and turned the TV on, then put on some random channel as background noise. It was oddly soothing, reminding him of past trips when there was a lull between storms. This time he happened to turn on the news before settling in on the bed to catalog the events since after the werewolf hunt.

 

By the time Dante came back out into the room, Alex was laying on one side of the bed on his stomach, writing in his journal, occasionally pausing while trying to remember if there were details missing or not. When Dante landed on the mattress next to him, he glanced over, a small smile tugging at his lips. He wanted to make a comment about not ending up in Mr. Sunglass Wearing Douche’s bed, but given that the man was dead and Dante’s lack of reactions to his casual flirtation, it seemed in poor taste.

 

_“Nothing I could make sense of in that hunter’s stuff. Some promising witchy-voodoo shit. Enough to ask around about, but I couldn’t read it.”_

 

“At this point all we can do is ask around,” Alex commented as he finished up his sentence in his journal before closing it and setting it aside. “We can organize stuff later, did you want to maybe get some sleep? I’m sure we’ll have time late in the afternoon to go through everything before heading out.”

 

_“I just want one night where nobody tries to kill us. Just one,”_

 

“Unless something manages to smash down that door to kill us, I think we’ll be fine,” Alex said with a shrug. “We’re in a fairly populated area, even if we’re on the outskirts, so unless any creatures out there want to make a scene and expose themselves to the human population, we should be okay until tomorrow evening.”

 

The vampire was well aware nearly every community or population of creatures and non-humans had a law or code against exposing themselves, or making a public spectacle. For vampires doing such a thing was signing one’s own death warrant and he was sure it was like that across the board. That being said, he was more worried about humans being a potential threat and not even hunters necessarily.

 

“Worst case scenario, some crackhead kicks in the door and tries to rob us,” Alex murmured, hoping to sound reassuring while his partner hopefully got some rest. “That might actually be a nice change of pace, I haven’t been held at gunpoint with a regular gun and regular bullets in a while.”

 

~

 

_"We can organize stuff later, did you want to maybe get some sleep? I’m sure we’ll have time late in the afternoon to go through everything before heading out.”_

“I think it’s coming for me whether I want it or not,” Dante admitted wryly, fighting back the urge to apologize for needing to do something as mundane and human as sleeping. Most days he’d give anything to stay awake, to stay in the game, here with Alex. This was one of those days. After the stress of nearly losing him, it seemed unthinkable to close his eyes, no matter how pressing the need had become.

 

_“Worst case scenario, some crackhead kicks in the door and tries to rob us...That might actually be a nice change of pace, I haven’t been held at gunpoint with a regular gun and regular bullets in a while.”_

 

“That makes one of us,” Dante turned his head just far enough to crack a brief smile, eyes half-lidded with the tug of sleep. He took a brief, guilty comfort in the vampire’s closeness, their bodies almost touching. “If it’s all the same I’ll take claws and fangs over bullets any day…”

 

Dante was already half-asleep a moment later, the weight of a difficult day catching up to him. He briefly thought of moving, getting under the covers like a normal human, but that seemed like entirely too much effort. The hunter felt hyper-aware of the small wound in his right arm, pulsating with warmth where Alex’s fangs had been. It seemed like ages ago, and even stranger that out of all the pains he’d sustained over the past twenty-four hours that that was the only one he could think about.

 

“Hey,” he sleepily nudged his partner with his foot, eyes drifting close, “wake me up if you need me.”

 

Sleep hit him hard. He woke up once when his arm fell asleep under his head, but he had barely readjusted before he was out again. The next time he woke up from unpleasant dreams of Alex, trapped in a silver cage, and Dante pounding on the bars trying in vain to get to him. Light was cracking through the top of the curtain, alerting him that it was daylight.

 

Sitting up, Dante blinked at the gloom around him, taking a few minutes to orient himself. “Shit,” he muttered hoarsely, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Didn’t even drink and I feel like I’ve got a bad hangover.”

 

Despite the unpleasant side-effects of a too-deep sleep, Dante felt more like himself. Dehydrated and bleary, but it felt like his brain was finally working right for the first time in ages.

 

~

 

_“I think it’s coming for me whether I want it or not,”_

 

“It’s not the only thing coming for you,” Alex murmured, “we still have the psychotic in-laws, not to mention witches or demons, all possibly coming for us.”

 

If Alex had intentionally made an innuendo, he made no indication of being aware of it, his blank stare fixed on the anchorman on the TV screen in front of him. If anything, with the subtle way his brow furrowed, he seemed deep in through over the problems plaguing them in the form of their respective pasts.

 

_“That makes one of us,” ... “If it’s all the same I’ll take claws and fangs over bullets any day…”_

“We might have to worry about both at this rate,” Alex replied, softly, knowing Dante was about to lose consciousness from the gradual slowing of his heartbeat and breathing. “But we’re safe for now.”

 

_“Hey, wake me up if you need me.”_

 

Alex felt Dante’s foot nudge him and glanced over. He watched as gray eyes started to close, all while being told to wake Dante, because really, Alex always needed him.

 

“You know I can’t do that,” Alex said to himself, knowing Dante was sound asleep and likely couldn’t hear him. “It’s hard enough getting you to sleep at all.”

 

With Dante sound asleep, Alex was left alone with the low murmur of the TV and the soft buzz of electricity that came with being in a big city. Blocking all of the background noise out, Alex zeroed in on the sound of Dante’s heart and the soft sounds of him breathing. Was it creepy? Maybe, but it had always grounded and relaxed him to listen to the reminders that Dante was okay and finally resting.

 

A few minutes into Dante falling asleep, Alex got up and untucked his half of the bed before folding it over Dante. Alex felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of him just from Dante actually sleeping. Physical rest did little for Alex and he could still feel the warmth and strength gained from drinking someone dry a few hours ago. Going over to their supplies, Alex went through it, methodologically, the same way Dante usually did, though he suspected the stubborn hunter would still go through and do it again in the morning.

 

When he got to the weapons, he checked, double checked, and cleaned the firearms they had, though they all appeared to be in good, working condition. The issue there was a lack of ammunition, specifically ammunition to deal with supernatural beings. Moving on, Alex checked on the state of his daggers, which he hadn’t used since Dante had cleaned them the other night. In a way, Alex was almost embarrassed how useless he’d been against that hunter, not to mention Nikolai, witches, or whoever was stalking them in Maine and then the arcade.

 

By the time Alex was going through the tattered clothing they had left, he perked up at the sound of Dante shifting around, only to realize the hunter was only moving his arm and not waking up. Feeling a little crest-fallen, Alex dug out a sewing kit to try to mend any obvious tears in their clothing, or at least reinforce anything that looked ready to go to pieces. The sad state of their supplies only reminded Alex of how important finding work here would be for them to get more on their feet.

 

Later on, by the time the sun started to come up, Alex had taken to sitting at the small table, finishing up his writing on the latest events. Their clothing was still damp and drying, so Alex had changed grabbed some of his spares to wear in the meanwhile. His gloves were of course back on, as was the leather jacket he’d taken a liking to since he’d snagged it off the back of a chair. The black jeans, his spare jeans, weren’t bad per se, but Alex just didn’t understand why they had to be this tight and clingy. Then again, beggars can’t be choosers and he’d taken what he could get. Still, the dark blue set he normally wore had more room to move around and right then Alex wished they weren’t still damp.

 

_“Shit. Didn’t even drink and I feel like I’ve got a bad hangover.”_

 

“You did drink though,” Alex said, standing off to the side of the bed now, one hand on his hip with a brow already quirked. “I mean, you didn’t keep it down, but still.”

 

A moment later, Alex sat down beside Dante, a pensive, concerned look on his face.

 

“Feeling any better?” He asked, knowing the answer, but wondering if there was anything he could do to help. “By the way, I did most of the organizing, I don’t know if you want to double check everything or not, since we have hours before I can go anywhere.”

 

~

 

_“It’s not the only thing coming for you… we still have the psychotic in-laws, not to mention witches or demons, all possibly coming for us.”_

 

Dante did a double-take at that line, squinting through one eye at his partner’s profile in the fluorescent lights. The words that followed reminded him to pull his head out of the gutter. He watched Alex’s brows furrow, highlighted by the shifting glow of the television. Sometimes he found himself in awe, simply that he even shared the same air as someone like the vampire. He was sure Alex had no idea the effect he had on people, on everyone around him… on Dante. It was mind-blowing to Dante that someone who could perceive so much could also miss so much.

 

_“You did drink though... I mean, you didn’t keep it down, but still.”_

 

“Jesus H, it was one shot,” Dante laughed, “guess I’ll never live that one down now.”

 

He looked up from rubbing his eyes as Alex took a seat beside him. If his eyes lingered a little too long on the way those dark jeans hugged his partner’s hips…. Well, he was only human. He’d always been a fan of those jeans.

 

_“Feeling any better? By the way, I did most of the organizing, I don’t know if you want to double check everything or not, since we have hours before I can go anywhere.”_

 

“Oh yeah. Just peachy.” Dante felt like it was a lot more convincing this time, and mostly true. It still felt like there was a wad of cotton stuffed into his left ear, but the pain had died down almost entirely. Other than the that, and usual aches and pains that tended to linger for a few days after a rough hunt, he felt blessedly more alert. Firing on all cylinders again for the first time in days.

 

“Thanks for doing that,” the hunter levered himself to his feet and shuffled over to his duffel bag. “I’m sure you checked everything.” He was sure the vampire could do pretty much anything better than he could, anyways. Not that he could stop himself from double-checking at some point. Call him a control-freak, or obsessive compulsive or any number of things. There were simply some habits too deeply embedded to break.

 

Finding a worn grey t-shirt, neatly folded and rolled, he pulled it on over his head, grimacing at the hole in the bottom near the hem.

 

“I guess I’ll get to work on those IDs,” he was thinking out loud as he moved around the room, brushing his teeth and finding a clean pair of socks. He filled up the grimy coffee pot on the counter outside the bathroom with sink water and turned it on, pouring double the recommended amount of coffee grounds into the filter. While it brewed noisily he went hunting for his laptop case.

 

“And what did you do all day? Other than watching me sleep like a creeper,” he asked his partner jokingly as he dropped a scratched and nicked briefcase onto the tiny table. “Nothing too exciting I hope.”

 

Unpacking his laptop and a compact document printer, Dante laid out the tools he needed in a precise row. Exacto knives, rulers, laminate and sheets of thin plastic. He dropped the ID he’d stolen from their dead enemy on the tabletop, trying not to stare too long at the face looking back up at him.

 

~

 

_“Jesus H, it was one shot, guess I’ll never live that one down now.”_

 

“No, probably not,” Alex said, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

With Dante now awake, Alex shifted around until he was reclined on his side, propping his head up in the palm of one hand as he watched his partner rub at his eyes. The vampire’s expression was carefully blank, as if he were thinking and didn’t want Dante to know what he was thinking about. The topic in question was how good a certain sleepy, slowly waking up hunter smelled. Alex had never been able to put his finger on it, but humans almost had a different scent to them when they slept, it was warm and relaxing in a way. To make matters worse, or better depending on who you ask, the ever-present lingering smell of smoke and leather he associated with Dante was there too. Right now, it was taking a decent amount of self control on Alex’s part to not get up and stick his nose in Dante’s pillow ruffled hair.

 

_“Oh yeah. Just peachy.”_

 

Even with Dante doing better, Alex was hoping the next day or two would be uneventful, just to give them time to catch their breath. He didn’t like the idea of them getting run ragged so soon after the chaos of the last few days. That being said, nothing was certain and that was more than enough reason for Alex to be on high alert and maybe content with being just a bit jumpy.

 

_“Thanks for doing that, I’m sure you checked everything.”_

 

“It wasn’t a problem,” Alex replied, knowing full well there was a decent chance Dante would go through it all again. He didn’t mind, knowing how his partner was about these things. “So...if I’m remembering correctly, supply runs are the first thing we need to handle.”

 

Alex watched for a moment as Dante put a shirt on, realizing there was a hole in it and regretting missing that when he’d gone through their clothing. Then again, stitching up a random hole in a t-shirt might just draw more attention to the damage than anything else. Not to mention, the material was already worn pretty thin and Alex doubted it would last much longer anyway.

 

_“I guess I’ll get to work on those IDs,”_

 

With Dante up and moving around the room now, Alex laid further back, letting his head rest against the pillow and stretching his arms out overhead before tucking them under his head, cradling it in his interlaced fingers. His shirt road up a bit, but he either didn’t notice or care enough to do anything about the strip of skin between his hip bones. Just laying there for a moment, he listened as he heard Dante get his laptop out. A few times Alex had wanted to ask Dante to show him how the whole computer and interweb thing worked but knew it would probably be tedious at best explaining it to him, so he didn’t bother bringing it up.

 

_“And what did you do all day? Other than watching me sleep like a creeper. Nothing too exciting I hope.”_

 

“Oh, I mostly just watched you sleep,” Alex replied automatically, eyes still fixed on the ceiling overhead. “Since you were saying my name and all,” he added, knowing no such thing happened, “it seemed rude to ignore you.”

 

Thinking back, Alex realized absolutely nothing exciting happened when Dante was asleep. It was actually boring when Dante wasn’t awake and Alex was left to his own devices. Normally he’d just turn on the TV and hope there was something good on, if not he’d write in his journal or just lay around in a daze until Dante woke up.

 

“I don’t think sewing, writing, and going through our supplies and gear is very exciting,” he said after a moment. “I really should try to pick up a fourth language or borrow a book from the library the next time we visit one.”

 

~

 

_“Oh, I mostly just watched you sleep, since you were saying my name and all... it seemed rude to ignore you.”_

 

“Yeah and you’d never dream of being rude.” A real smile ghosted across Dante’s lips at that, imagining how Alex might really react if he knew Dante did dream about him. And what, exactly, those dreams were about. The thought made his fingers pause for just a millisecond over the keyboard, his jaw twitching imperceptibly before he continued working.

 

_“I don’t think sewing, writing, and going through our supplies and gear is very exciting... I really should try to pick up a fourth language or borrow a book from the library the next time we visit one.”_

 

“It never is,” the hunter shrugged, feeling bad again for falling asleep on his partner. He couldn’t imagine being eternally awake, bored and waiting, though he often wished he had the same skill. He could only dream of how much work he could get done without the constraints of humanity.

 

“I’m sure there’s gotta be a library in New York we can raid...” Dante clicked through files, finding mugshots they’d taken ages ago to drag into his New York driver’s license template. He still couldn’t get over the way Alex’s face hadn’t aged a day… especially compared to his own. He could see the years passing like shadows every time he looked in the mirror, their rough life aging him even more than the average human. He felt decades older than his time.

 

“Or you could just let me get you a Kindle,” Dante suggested as he went for the coffee, bringing the whole pot back to the table with him. “Endless books. All you can read buffet.”

 

He chugged the coffee black from a styrofoam cup as the template printed out, ignoring the way it scalded his throat. Caffeine was more important than comfort at the moment. “Shit that’s gross,” he griped, even as he poured another cup.

 

He chanced a quick glance over at his partner, relaxed and reclining on the bed... and fuck if he didn’t look like a tall drink of water. How the vampire could look damn near pornographic just lying there, doing absolutely nothing, was a mystery to him. Clearing his throat quietly, he shifted in his seat and tried to focus. He slid the plastic sheet into a frame and dropped his ruled template over it, carefully cutting out both fresh new IDs with the razor-sharp tip of the exacto blade. Seals and holograms came next, pressed carefully over the card with practiced precision. He always found this kind of work calming, methodical and familiar. Maybe in another life he would have done this for a living, he often thought.

 

“Once it gets dark I figure we can scrounge up the last of our cash, top out the cards we have left. Grab a tank of gas and some fresh digs,” the hunter rambled aloud as he ran the fresh prints through the laminator and cut them out. Holding them up to the light side by side, he surveyed his own work with a critical eye.

 

“New and improved, Señor Stoker,” he pushed out his chair and moved over to the bed, dropping the ID on Alex’s chest. “Doubt anyone reads the names on these things anyway.”

 

Dante plopped down into a chair near the window and stretched out his legs. It was easier to pass his ogling off as conversational from this angle, anyways. He tucked his own fresh card into his wallet, eyeing his partner over the leather. “We can probably ditch the car once we get into the city too. Too crowded to drive much anyways.”

 

~

 

_“Yeah and you’d never dream of being rude.”_

 

“Of course not,” Alex responded, though he did for a moment wonder what Dante dreamed about, or if he dreamed at all.

 

_“It never is,”_

 

“Oh, there are a few libraries,” Alex said, trying to recall how to get to them. “The one on fifth avenue by Bryant Park is nice, but there are loads of tourist attractions around it.” A brief pause passed, as Alex realized his error. “Correction, everything on Manhattan Island is a tourist attraction.”

 

More than once, with each passing year, it bothered Alex just a bit to see Dante getting older. At first it had been nice, given that when they met Dante was a moody nineteen-year-old kid, but now it was just a reminder of his partner’s mortality. Decades ago, maybe around 1940 or so, Alex had some trouble accepting the fact that despite being forty years old at the time he was stuck looking no different than he did the night he was turned. After a while, it got easier, to the point where his age was more of a running joke, but for a brief time it was a reminder of what he’d lost.

 

_“Or you could just let me get you a Kindle. Endless books. All you can read buffet.”_

 

“That sounds...expensive,” Alex said, not wanting Dante to know how tempting the idea of endless books was, especially on long days when he was stuck in a motel room and with the hunter fast asleep.

 

In theory, it seemed like a great idea, it’d certainly make research much easier, though Alex doubted this ‘kindle’ device had ancient texts as an option. Then again, research at this point could be perusing through books on recent events or trying to get a better feel for the modern world. Despite being awake the entire time he’d been a vampire, there was a good chunk of years spent being locked away by his coven or mucking around in some war overseas. In both cases, Alex was left a little behind on the times and had never really caught up.

 

_“Shit that’s gross,”_

 

“That reminds me, I actually thought the same thing the first time I tasted blood,” Alex said, pausing a moment. “I was human at the time, and it was vampire blood, but it was still pretty repugnant.”

 

There was a longer pause, as if Alex was thinking of launching into another story to pass the time, but thought better of it, not wanting to talk about how Nikolai had ruined his life. Other topics came to mind, but Alex could never be sure if life at the turn of the century, killing Nazis, roaming around a jungle in Vietnam, or killing other vampires would be the right kind of story to tell. Other times, he almost wanted to pry just a little into Dante’s life before they met. That being said, Dante was young, those memories were fresh, and Alex didn’t want to prod at a sore spot and send his partner into a melancholic kind of mood. Alex himself had plenty of bad memories, but then he’d also had decades to let the sting of the worst of them fade.

 

_“Once it gets dark I figure we can scrounge up the last of our cash, top out the cards we have left. Grab a tank of gas and some fresh digs,”_

 

“That sounds like a plan,” the vampire replied, still looking up at the ceiling, trying to think of anything they might be missing and finding nothing that Dante hadn’t already mentioned.

 

_“New and improved, Señor Stoker,”...“Doubt anyone reads the names on these things anyway.”_

 

“I’d rather not have something ridiculous for a name on the off chance someone reads them,” Alex said with a shrug, picking up his ID then examining his own face staring back at him with ‘Bram Stoker’ displayed in the name field. “I don’t think the names of authors stand out all that much these days, sadly.”

 

_“We can probably ditch the car once we get into the city too. Too crowded to drive much anyways.”_

 

“Yeah, in the city walking or public transport makes more sense,” Alex agreed, knowing they’d be wasting time trying to drive around everywhere in the city. “It’d be helpful if we were staying in Brooklyn, Queens, or the Bronx, but there’s not much reason for us to be in any of those places. ...Speaking of, we need to find somewhere to store all the things we currently have before we get rid of the car.”

 

Sitting up, just a little, Alex propped himself up with his elbows to look over at Dante. They had hours left, but Alex was almost dying of boredom and at this point any distraction would be nice.

 

“Can you tell me about the tattoos?” He asked, suddenly. “I mostly mean the ones you said you added later, but it’d be nice to understand what the rest of it means if we run into more hunters from the psychotic cult trying to kill us.”

 

~

 

_“It’d be helpful if we were staying in Brooklyn, Queens, or the Bronx, but there’s not much reason for us to be in any of those places. ...Speaking of, we need to find somewhere to store all the things we currently have before we get rid of the car.”_

“The guild is off the water in Queens,” Dante shrugged, “at least if I remember right. It’s been a minute. I can get us a place around there, maybe find a parking garage somewhere to leave the car for a bit so our shit doesn’t get jacked…” He was mostly thinking out loud, trying to formulate a plan that accommodated them both, the stolen car, their gear… their crushing lack of funds.

 

_“Can you tell me about the tattoos? I mostly mean the ones you said you added later, but it’d be nice to understand what the rest of it means if we run into more hunters from the psychotic cult trying to kill us.”_

Dante looked up, surprised at the sudden change in topic. Tipping his head, he looked down at his arm briefly.

 

“Uh, yeah…” he cleared his throat, thinking of where to start. “I mean every hunter is different. It’s a different story, you know. But there are certain symbols that form a common thread.” He picked up the silver crucifix that hung around his neck, running his thumb across the worn edges. “Sacrifice. Devoting yourself to the cause and all that. Every hunter makes a unique sacrifice, so every rosary is unique. My father… he made a name for himself killing vampires.” Dante raised an apologetic eyebrow at his partner. “Hence, the silver. Irony and symbolism built the church, after all.”

 

Puffing out his cheeks in a sigh, Dante returned his wandering attention to his own ink, wondering how much history he’d have to dig up to truly explain it all. He wasn’t proud of many of the things he’d done, but he didn’t think for a minute that Alex would bat an eyelid.

 

“Cross of Saint Andrews I already told you about… So the fleur-de-lis, representing the return of a spirit to wholeness. Kind of a twisted philosophy, there, but essentially purity. Spirits, ghosts, and the like. Meant to be pure in death, so we… you know. Help them out.” It was a kind term for trapping a lingering spirit and ripping them out of reality and back to the afterlife in a reign of fire. “The Leviathan Cross, could be various sizes and shapes, depending on what demon you send back. The crucible for vampires. Back when we hunted witches we would take the seal of their coven.”

 

Dante slowly rotated his arm as he pointed out each one. “Alpha and Omega represent the wolves. Alpha’s a hard one, cause you have to have omega first. Omega, taking out the pack. Alpha for taking out the leader. Essentially ending an entire bloodline.” Dante rubbed two fingers across the matching intertwined symbols inscribed into his forearm. They were larger than usual to cover the mess of scarred and mangled flesh that lay underneath, trophies of nearly losing his limb. “That hunt nearly killed me.”

 

Dante forced a smile, looking up to his partner again. “I didn’t leave any room,” he volunteered. “You’re supposed to leave room, usually near your wrist somewhere for the final piece. A dove. Represents peace, so basically retirement.” He shook out his shoulders with a humorless chuckle. “You can probably guess how many hunters actually end up inked with that one.”

 

“So you can see how the ink builds up differently for every hunter, depending on what they kill and what they survive. How optimistic they are about reaching an end someday. A personal history.” A little self-conscious for the possibly the first time ever around Alex, Dante studied the tattoos on his own skin, the reaching demonic hands that filled the empty space between the symbols he’d already pointed out. He told himself it was purely aesthetic, as he’d resolved to finish the sleeve from wrist to shoulder before he kicked the bucket. An event he’d somehow avoided a lot longer than he’d expected to.

 

Clasping his hands, Dante rubbed his calloused palms together. While he could recite the hunts with clinical detachment, their meaning etched into permanence on his own skin, it was a little harder to explain the images he’d added himself. Namely, the embracing sun and moon on the inside of his elbow. It was the most painful one he could remember getting. He’d had it done after meeting Alex. Both the imagery and sensitive placement were a secret shame to him, especially now when he could no longer ignore the feelings that had grown long ago, far past friendship.

 

Choosing to glaze over that one, he dropped his arm back onto the chair and looked back up at his partner. “Might be time to start on the other arm,” he joked half-heartedly, “never thought I’d live long enough to need that much canvas.”

 

He was struck by the almost overwhelming desire to ask what Alex would do when Dante got too old for this, too worn-down or wounded. Losing Alex to one of their ever-increasing enemies was one thing, losing him to time itself was another. Maybe it was the weight of any answer he could possibly receive. Maybe it was sheer avoidance. But Dante just didn’t have the guts to ask.

 

“I know I haven’t told you a whole lot about the church and all,” Dante said like an apology, “but someday I will. For now suffice it to say it was miserable, and I hated it, and I’m out. As far as I’m concerned my real life started the day I left.” The day I met you was heavily implied. Another truth Dante didn’t have the truth to voice.

 

“Anyways, enough about all that,” the human did his best to change the subject, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. He stood and crossed the room, opting to drink straight from the now-lukewarm coffee pot instead of constantly refilling the small mug. “The first time you drank blood… vampire blood. I don’t think you’ve told me about that one.”

 

~

 

_“Uh, yeah…I mean every hunter is different. It’s a different story, you know. But there are certain symbols that form a common thread.” ... “That hunt nearly killed me.”_

For a long while, Alex listened silently to Dante explain the various symbols on his arm. The entire time, Alex managed to keep his face neutral, not terribly torn up over Dante killing things that probably would have killed the hunter given the chance. Sure, not everything was evil, Alex liked to think he was semi-evidence of that, but given the choice between Dante and some nameless creature, he knew which he’d rather have alive. It’s when Dante mentions the werewolves, his fingers passing over scars, and mentioning how that hunt nearly killed him that Alex felt his jaw clench and his eyes darken, just a little. Anyone else might have overlooked the subtle change, but Alex could only hope Dante missed it.

 

_“I didn’t leave any room. You’re supposed to leave room, usually near your wrist somewhere for the final piece. A dove. Represents peace, so basically retirement. You can probably guess how many hunters actually end up inked with that one.”_

 

Something about Dante’s smile, even forced, quelled the sudden rush of bloodlust Alex felt. For a brief moment, Alex had almost hoped someone from Dante’s deranged cult kicked in their door so he’d have a reason to rip someone’s throat out. The mention of retirement left Alex with a few mixed feelings, though one of those feelings was wanting to see the number of hunters with a dove tattoo drop. The less vicious side of him could only hope Dante outlived most hunters, who had pitiful lifespans as it was.

 

_“So you can see how the ink builds up differently for every hunter, depending on what they kill and what they survive. How optimistic they are about reaching an end someday. A personal history.” ... “Might be time to start on the other arm, never thought I’d live long enough to need that much canvas.”_

 

Alex noted that Dante hadn’t said anything about the remaining tattoos and decided not to press the matter. It was enough that Dante volunteered the information that he did. Maybe someday Alex would ask about the rest, but right now he was satisfied with what he’d gotten in terms of an answer.

 

“I think that’s a good idea, actually, starting on the other arm” Alex said after a moment. “If it’s a personal history you might as well make it your own, who knows, you might still run out of room.”

 

_“I know I haven’t told you a whole lot about the church and all, but someday I will. For now suffice it to say it was miserable, and I hated it, and I’m out. As far as I’m concerned my real life started the day I left.”_

 

“I don’t think you’ve told me about the day you left,” Alex commented, musing over what Dante had told him so far. “It sounds like, given the context of them slapping tattoos on kids and sending them to kill monsters, you made the right choice leaving.”

 

_“Anyways, enough about all that. The first time you drank blood… vampire blood. I don’t think you’ve told me about that one.”_

 

Somehow, Alex wasn’t surprised when Dante asked about the first time he’d consumed vampire blood. For most vampires, the first time was while dying and being reborn as their sire drained them to the point of death. With Alex, that hadn’t been the case.

 

“There’s...a bit to unpack there, but we have a long while, so why not?” Alex said simply.

 

His memory of shooting someone in the head at 12 years old had been pretty painful to recall, due to his age at the time. This story, the story of how he ultimately became a vampire, was much less painful. Looking back on it, Alex felt resentment and a bit of sorrow, but mostly it was like an old scar that ached at times, but not enough to really hurt.

 

“So, I never did tell you, but Nikolai actually yanked me off the side of the road when I was about 24, a year before he turned me. I’d gotten into an argument with Vincent over something and...kind of stormed out, I guess I was at that age where I was a little bit moody.” Pausing, Alex tried to think over if he was missing anything. “A month before that I’d had an accident, I kind of ended up getting stabbed in the hand and it was a mess for a while.”

 

Sitting a little straighter, now upright on the edge of the bed, Alex peeled his left-hand glove off, revealing the scar he always seemed self-conscious about. When it had happened, Alex was sure his career as anything would be over and he’d be resigned to living as a cripple. That in of itself contributed to the events leading up to his argument with Vincent, but that was a whole different story.

 

“Nikolai...he didn’t like the idea of having a damaged...” the word ‘pet’ almost passed Alex’s lips, causing him to grimace. “He didn’t want his personal capri sun pouch to be defective and by that point it was clear that without a bit of help my hand wouldn’t be the same.” Looking down at his hand, Alex ran a finger over the silvery scar. “The first night, I remember waking up in a cell. It wasn’t particularly bad, if anything it was nicer than this hotel room, but without windows and the door was locked and guarded. ...I think the reasoning is certain hormones or deficiencies makes blood taste bad and having stressed out or depressed humans as your food source ruins the experience, or something, so they tried to keep us somewhat comfortable.”

 

Closing his eyes, Alex could almost picture the gilded cage he’d been locked in for roughly a year. He’d been let out a few times, usually guarded and always with Nikolai, and they’d never left the coven house. It wasn’t until later that Alex realized it was all pageantry, showing off as if to say ‘look how much better my human is than yours’ to the other vampires.

 

“Anyway, I woke up in this cell and he showed up right after. ...I actually tried to attack him when he came in,” Alex shook his head a little, “that had been stupid, he broke my wrist for that. I know I shouted at him a lot, said a lot of very crude things about his mother, because pain and confusion tend to make one forgo manners.”

 

Pausing again, Alex realized he probably was rambling and maybe even stalling a bit. He leaned back, letting his head hit the pillow as he looked up at the ceiling. Nikolai had always been a sore spot, a point of bitterness that left no room for actual sadness.

 

“To make a long story short, he cut his own wrist open, held me down, and almost suffocated me trying to get me to drink his blood,” Alex said simply. “I didn’t even know vampires existed at the time, or that he was one, I’d thought I’d just been picked up by a crazy acquaintance who decided to abduct me and force feed me his blood. I threw up at first, come to think of it, then he seemed to realize something was wrong and let me breath before trying again. Eventually, I just gave up and he got a decent mouthful into me.”

 

For a long moment, Alex lay still, unsure if he’d gone over the pros and cons of consuming vampire blood. He knew he explained the bond between vampires caused by sharing blood, but he wasn’t sure if he’d elaborated on what it did to humans.

 

“After I drank it and I guess sometime after it hit my blood stream, my hand and wrist healed up. It was almost perfect, but I guess the damage was so bad it still left a scar.” Looking over at Dante, it occurred to Alex that he didn’t explain why he never used his blood as a cure all, rather than fussing over the hunter. “The downside is it creates a bond, not super strong, but it makes humans both easier to control and easier to track down. Another downside is if you die with vampire blood in you, you turn into one.”

 

“I don’t think Nikolai originally intended on making me a vampire,” Alex said, after a long moment. “I think he just got bored and wanted to see how else he could hurt me, I don’t really know. He always seemed to get some thrill out of hurting me, maybe I just really pissed him off the few times we met before he decided to ruin my life.”

 

Casting another glance Dante’s way, Alex shifted until he was laying on his stomach, facing Dante and letting his chin rest in one palm. Right now seemed as good a time as any to swap stories, maybe learn more, even if it was just out of curiosity.

 

“I don’t think you’ve ever told me much about your parents,” Alex said, hoping Dante knew the vampire would drop it if the line of questioning became too much.

 

~

 

_“I think that’s a good idea, actually, starting on the other arm… If it’s a personal history you might as well make it your own, who knows, you might still run out of room.”_

 

A surprised laugh dropped from the hunter’s lips and he nodded concedingly, “yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll have to come up with some new material.” He hadn’t given it a lot of thought. A side-effect of putting an expiration date on himself… living past his shelf life had left him floundering, wandering the map aimlessly and pining after his only friend and companion like a lost puppy. Maybe it would be healthy to start thinking of the future for once. A real future.

 

_“I don’t think you’ve told me about the day you left… It sounds like, given the context of them slapping tattoos on kids and sending them to kill monsters, you made the right choice leaving.”_

 

“I did,” Dante said icily without looking at his partner. If he was sure of anything, he was sure of that. He glazed over the remark about leaving, not sure how to explain it, or even if he could.

 

_“There’s...a bit to unpack there, but we have a long while, so why not?”_

Dante raised an eyebrow at that, slumping back into his abandoned armchair. “Nothing but time,” he made a toasting motion with his half-empty coffee pot and took another drink.

 

_“A month before that I’d had an accident, I kind of ended up getting stabbed in the hand and it was a mess for a while.”_

 

Dante was curious about that, but let it go for later in favor of hearing the rest. His eyes flickered down as Alex removed his glove, taking in the silver-glinted scar he’d always pretended not to notice. He was sure it must have been painful when it was fresh. He wondered if Vincent, a man Dante still didn’t know much about, had had a hand in whatever _'accident_ ' had caused it.

 

The hunter listened, taking in his partner’s body language more than the words themselves. He kept his face carefully schooled into a mask of impassivity, despite feeling horrified at the story. He knew too well that vampires could be monsters--hell, most humans too--but it wasn’t often that he had to listen to a first-hand account of the things they were capable of.

 

_“The downside is it creates a bond, not super strong, but it makes humans both easier to control and easier to track down. Another downside is if you die with vampire blood in you, you turn into one.”_

 

Dante didn’t hold it against his partner for never using his blood to address past injuries. Offering Alex his own blood seemed a lot more natural than the other way around, even if that was flawed logic. He doubted the vampire would want to risk forming any kind of bond with him. And if that wasn’t an unexpected gut-punch of a notion he didn’t know what was.

 

_“I don’t think Nikolai originally intended on making me a vampire... I think he just got bored and wanted to see how else he could hurt me, I don’t really know. He always seemed to get some thrill out of hurting me, maybe I just really pissed him off the few times we met before he decided to ruin my life.”_

 

Dante’s jaw and sore ear screamed in pain as he clenched his teeth, doing his very best not to give away the array of emotions rolling through him like a thunderstorm. He knew it wouldn’t help anything, logically, but it was difficult. He couldn’t exactly detach himself from Alex the way he could detach from himself. It made him angry that Alex had ever experienced pain at someone else’s hand, vampire or otherwise.

 

“Did it?” Dante couldn’t help asking, staring down at his own hand wrapped around the handle of his makeshift mug. “Ruin your life?” It was probably unfair to ask. He knew Alex had to deal with a kind of bloodlust he would never experience, but in the end it had led them here. To a life that wasn’t exactly roses and sunshine, but then again... It was theirs. He just wondered if what they had now, as humble as it was, was worth all the pain that had come before.

 

_“I don’t think you’ve ever told me much about your parents...”_

 

Still fighting down an unexpected emotional roller coaster brought on by listening to Alex’s story, the question caught Dante off guard. He could feel his heart speed up and he stared at the carpet, fighting for control. His first instinct was to find a way to shrug off the question, drown in avoidance and busy work. He didn’t know how he could possibly do that when the vampire had just opened up to him in the same way. The vampire already knew so much about him, he wasn't sure why he was having a hard time with this.

 

“I never met my mom,” his voice was hoarse and he swallowed twice, trying to sound normal again and failing. “I have no idea who she was so, not much to tell there. My dad wouldn't talk about her. Got real angry when I asked.”

 

Dante’s jaw twitched and he looked away, feeling anger, bitterness. Despair. He knew Alex didn’t mean anything by the question, probably didn’t know that it was still a subject Dante struggled with daily. But considering the only parent he’d known had been an angry, distant god, quick to wrath and impossible to please, he supposed it was only natural that he came out with some daddy issues.

 

“I’ve been thinking about it since yesterday,” he mumbled at the carpet, “heading into New York. Rafter knew my dad, probably a lot better than I ever did. He hunted with him for decades.” It was almost painful to admit that Rafter had been kinder to him as a kid than his own blood, but at the same time he understood it. How did you admit out loud that your own father had hated the very sight of you?

 

“I didn’t really look like him,” was the most Dante could force out with a weak shrug, thinking of a six and a half foot wall of muscle with angry eyes the color of coal. “My dad. Figure it was probably hard for him to be around me.”

 

Suddenly crawling out of his own skin, Dante stood abruptly, making it over to the sink and dumping what little remained of the coffee down the drain. He could feel his shoulders knotting up, his mouth dry.

 

“Sorry,” he coughed, knowing he should say something else. The hunter felt the plastic handle creak in his hand and realized he was clenching the dish too tightly. He slowly let go with aching fingers, watching the water run. Letting the pot fill back up, he turned the faucet off with careful movements.

 

“I don’t want to talk about him,” he finally choked into the stillness, knowing he must look like he was losing his mind right about now. “He’s dead. He doesn’t matter.” It felt like a cop-out, but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

 

“I don’t know how you can talk about your sire like that,” he turned to face his partner, incredulous. “I mean, you’re so calm. Like it doesn’t matter.” He felt the anger creeping into his chest like a squeezing hand and forced himself to pause, taking a deep breath. “I don’t understand why you’re not out there burning the goddamn world down trying to find him after everything he did. I mean fuck if my old man was still alive I would--” he cut himself off, forcing his clenched fingers to uncurl.

 

“I’m just saying,” Dante shoved the coffeepot back into the machine and hit the button forcefully to brew another pot, “it’s your choice, and I know we’ve been talking about going after him for a while… but maybe we should make it a priority that’s all.”

 

~

 

_“...yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll have to come up with some new material.”_

 

“You’ll have plenty of time to come up with new material,” Alex offered, knowing full well hunters didn’t live long, but he’d do everything he could to keep Dante alive as long as possible.

 

~

 

As Alex mentioned his accident and Vincent, he remembered he’d intended on telling Dante about him. One day, maybe even tonight depending on how their conversation went, Alex fully intended to go into more detail. It was just a simple matter of beating around the bush when it came to who Vincent was to the world. The vampire knew well enough that there was no way to wipe away a violent, bloody history like Vincent’s or his own for that matter.

 

While talking, Alex hadn’t really considered how recounting his pain and misery might affect Dante. He’d told the hunter plenty about things Nikolai did when Alex was a vampire, but had left out the year prior, the last year of his human life. To be fair, right this moment Dante was giving Alex’s poker face a run for its money.

 

_“Did it?” ... “Ruin your life?”_

 

“...At the time I believed it did,” Alex said, thinking back to his mortal life, all the hopes and dreams he’d had went up in smoke the moment he died and was reborn. “Just...imagine having a future, possibilities, people you care about and having that all fizzle out in front of you. By the time I’d escaped over a decade had passed, I hadn’t aged, and I couldn’t go home without putting anyone who’d ever mattered to me in danger.”

 

There was an extended moment in which Alex was thinking, unsure how to explain just how that changed. His life had ended, he’d spent decades just existing in a cursed limbo between life and death, but could never bring himself to end it all, not before cleaning the world up a little. In a way, he wanted to feel as if his soul — if he’d even had one — was pure before he finally died. It had been a slow and steady downward spiral that was supposed to end the day he was supposed to be executed.

 

“Then one day this stupid kid with ice in his jacket showed up,” Alex said, feeling the edge of his lips tug into an actual smile. “Neither of us should have made it out that day, but we did, and... I guess, what I mean is Nikolai could’t ruin everything, he took my old life, but he couldn’t stop me from building a new one.”

 

~

 

_“I never met my mom, I have no idea who she was so, not much to tell there. My dad wouldn't talk about her. Got real angry when I asked.” ... “I don’t want to talk about him. He’s dead. He doesn’t matter.”_

 

The little things, from Dante’s heart picking up speed and the way his jaw twitched, Alex wondered if he’d made a faux pas by asking about the hunter’s parents. When Dante finally spoke, his voice sounding off, Alex listened, despite regretting bringing this topic up at all. Given Dante’s reaction and how he acted while talking about his parents, Alex decided to not press the matter further after the hunter finished what he was willing to share.

 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Alex spoke finally, wishing he had the nerve to do or say more. “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me this much.”

 

_“I don’t know how you can talk about your sire like that. I mean, you’re so calm. Like it doesn’t matter.” ... “I don’t understand why you’re not out there burning the goddamn world down trying to find him after everything he did. I mean fuck if my old man was still alive I would--”_

 

“It does matter,” Alex responded after a moment. “But what happened to me happened over ninety years ago...well, ninety-five to eighty-four years ago if you count the years I was still stuck with him as a vampire. I’ve just had some time to work through it, but it does matter very much to me. The thing is, I’m not doing myself any favors getting upset or angry about what he did to me. I had decades to be upset and that was just what he wanted.”

 

Sitting up a bit straighter, Alex leaned forward to rest his elbows onto his knees and cradled his head in his hands, raking pale fingers through dark locks. He could only imagine the thrill Nikolai would get out of Alex succumbing to his darker nature. ‘ _Burning the goddamn world_ ’ would have been exactly what his sire would have wanted him to do. Instead, Alex restrained himself, suppressing his bloodlust and even took up killing his own kind, championing humans, so to speak.

 

_“I’m just saying, it’s your choice, and I know we’ve been talking about going after him for a while… but maybe we should make it a priority that’s all.”_

 

“It’s an idea,” Alex said, evenly.

 

In truth, he was terrified of the idea of going after Nikolai. Not because he was worried that the elder vampire might kill him. Rather, what scared Alex and made him want to run with Dante to the ends of the world was the simple fact that Nikolai knew killing Alex wouldn’t hurt him. The one thing left of any value to Alex that Nikolai could use to inflict any pain onto him was Dante.

 

“What time is it,” the vampire murmured to himself as he checked the time. “Did you have a preferred time for heading out into the city?”

 

~

 

_“Just...imagine having a future, possibilities, people you care about and having that all fizzle out in front of you. By the time I’d escaped over a decade had passed, I hadn’t aged, and I couldn’t go home without putting anyone who’d ever mattered to me in danger.”_

 

Dante had thought about that many times over the years, about what and who Alex might have left behind. He wasn’t sure why but he was almost afraid to ask. It wasn’t a concept he could even begin to relate to: having a future. The only certainty in a hunter’s life was death, a notion beat into them from a young age. They would work, and hunt, and pray and train and serve until the day they were killed. He wasn’t sure why, but that just made him all the more angry that Alex had lost that. A chance at a normal life. Maybe Dante had romanticized the idea of normalcy because it was so far from what he could ever hope to have for himself, maybe he was making more out of it than it was. It didn’t change how he felt.

 

_“Then one day this stupid kid with ice in his jacket showed up… Neither of us should have made it out that day, but we did, and... I guess, what I mean is Nikolai could’t ruin everything, he took my old life, but he couldn’t stop me from building a new one.”_

 

Dante half-smiled into his coffee, “never gonna live that down,” he muttered. He felt a brief flash of comfort from Alex’s words, even while knowing the vampire might just be saying those things to make him feel better. At least it worked. Even if he knew that half the time, he was still that stupid kid, just a kid with a guardian angel.

 

_“There’s nothing to be sorry for... I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to tell me this much.”_

 

“It’s not like I don’t want to tell you, Alex,” Dante didn’t even know how he could explain, “god of course I do. It’s just… it still kinda sucks. It wasn’t that long ago for me.”

 

It’s raw. It hurts. It’s an open wound. I just want to forget.

 

Of course he didn’t have the guts to say any of that, so the hunter breezed past it like he always did when something hit too close to home. Stuffed it down and ignored it, hoping it wouldn’t fester and rot away at him like so many other things.

 

_“It does matter…” “The thing is, I’m not doing myself any favors getting upset or angry about what he did to me. I had decades to be upset and that was just what he wanted.”_

 

As was usually the case when his anger got the best of him, Dante was left feeling deflated and more than a little foolish. He envied Alex’s control. He also knew he’d never share it. That fire that burned in his belly like an inferno had always driven him, pushed him, and not always in the right direction. It kept him fighting. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he let it burn out.

 

_“It’s an idea.”_

 

Dante glared over at Alex sourly, wishing the vampire would get a little worked up for once, if only so Dante didn’t feel like the emotional scattergun of the pair. Frustrated, he shook a cigarette out of the cardboard and tossed the box onto the table. He tipped over the plastic “No Smoking” sign, face-down, and lit up. Propping his hands on his hips, he took a long draw and tipped his head back.

 

“Hell, maybe I should take up drinking,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair roughly.

 

He felt like he should say so much more, but his lips just wouldn’t move. His pride, as the priests had never hesitated to tell him, was his greatest downfall, and it was rearing its ugly head now. Too arrogant to be weak, too proud to be humble.

 

_“What time is it… Did you have a preferred time for heading out into the city?”_

 

Dante nodded, taking the bait and easy-out of what had quickly become a tense conversation. He doubted that was true on Alex’s part, but Dante was still human, and he still got angry. Maybe that was less thanks to his humanity and more to his Italian blood, but he wasn’t about to split hairs on the matter.

 

“Whenever it gets dark, I guess,” he absently reached down and straightened the cigarette box so it sat at a neat right angle with the other items still on the table. “We need to get phones first. Clothes.”

 

Padding over to the window, Dante took a peek out through the curtains. Thanks to the short day of autumn it was already starting to grow dim. A glance at his watch confirmed it was still early. “It’s about six,” he carefully readjusted the fabric to prevent any light from getting through, “maybe we head out in the next hour or so. Never too early to get back on the road.”

 

His brain was already working overtime, trying to formulate a version of their future where they could weave through their maze of enemies and regain the upper hand. Get back behind the wheel of their own rolling shit-show and choose their way again. Anything was better than running.

 

The coffeemaker beeped at him and he shut it off, slowly shuffling his tools back into the briefcase and turning his attention to their gear. He didn’t plan on letting go of the Nikolai thing, but he knew they didn’t have the luxury of hitting the warpath in their current situation. Too many threats were closing in on them too quickly, and if they didn’t deal with them one at a time they wouldn’t be alive much longer. Cigarette dangling from his lips, the hunter pulled on a pair of jeans and started sifting through their gear, jotting a list into the back of one of his journals as he cataloged the many items they needed to restock on. It was a long list.

 

“Do you know your way around here?” He asked as he shrugged into his jacket, knowing they would be able to get back to driving soon. He found a battered silver thermos in one of their bags and poured coffee up to the brim, determined to have as much caffeine in his system as possible for the night ahead. “We can always stop and grab a map when we pick up phones.”

 

~

_“...never gonna live that down...”_

 

“No, not likely, I’m going to bring that up well into old age,” Alex mused, knowing the night they met was one of their better memories.

 

_“It’s not like I don’t want to tell you, Alex, god of course I do. It’s just… it still kinda sucks. It wasn’t that long ago for me.”_

 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” The vampire asked after a moment, wanting Dante to know he was there to listen if the hunter ever wanted to revisit any of this, or anything else for that matter. “If you ever happen to have something you want to vent about, I’m here to listen.”

 

When Dante glared over at him following his non-answer to the Nikolai problem, Alex raised an eyebrow as if to say ‘well, it is an idea.’ He didn’t begrudge Dante for how intense the hunter’s feelings about things got, if anything it was endearing in an odd kind of way. Sometimes it even felt like they had a push and pull to them, a sort of balance, almost like two planetary bodies stuck in each other’s gravitational pull.

 

For a moment, Alex could do nothing but watch as Dante moved the ‘no smoking’ sign face down before rebelling against it by lighting up a cigarette. Trying not to laugh, Alex went about double checking that he hadn’t carelessly left anything on the bed or nightstand. He stuck his hand in his pocket to make sure his ‘Bram Stoker’ ID was still there. His last wallet happened to be what his last fake ID had been in when he’d lost both about a week ago.

 

_“Hell, maybe I should take up drinking,”_

 

Alex gently bit the inside of his lip to avoid mentioning how poorly Dante held his liquor. Right now it probably would have been like throwing gas onto a fire that was hopefully simmering down. Not that Alex thought he’d get burned by the figurative fire, but he wanted Dante to calm down, not get worked up again.

 

_“Whenever it gets dark, I guess. We need to get phones first. Clothes.”_

 

Nodding in agreement, Alex knew they needed some way to communicate once they split up in the city. That and the clothing they did have was mostly tattered rags by now. He preferred to salvage what they could, not seeing the point in wasting what little they had, but it had been a while since they’d managed to get their hands on new clothes.

 

_“It’s about six, maybe we head out in the next hour or so. Never too early to get back on the road.”_

 

“I’m ready when you are,” Alex said simply.

 

Standing up, the vampire went over to the beat up old satchel he’d kept years after the war he’d dragged it through had ended. He double checked that all of the few possessions he bothered keeping were all accounted for, then closed it up before checking on his daggers. It had been a regular problem in any major city, walking around clearly armed, but they’d always found ways around it. Alex personally preferred keeping his daggers somewhere around his hips where he could grab them at a moment’s notice, but that was where they were the most obvious.

 

“Almost makes me miss the woods,” the vampire said as he tried to work out the best way to secure his daggers to himself. “No one looks at you funny or tries to call the cops if you’re walking around armed. ...It’s probably a bit much for clothes shopping though...”

 

It was an unspoken thing, but Alex rarely let the daggers leave his sight. He’d never elaborated on where they came from, only that he was given them as a gift during mortal phase of his existence. Who they were from was never mentioned, but he’d been carrying them on him was Nikolai dragged him kicking and screaming away from his old life. By the time he’d escaped almost eleven years later, he’d recovered them from a display case in the coven house. He knew it was a not so subtle way to mock him for ten long years, but it had made recovering them and escaping so much easier.

 

While Dante went about putting things away and making a list, Alex took off his jacket and secured both daggers across his back before putting the jacket back on to conceal them. For the most part, unless someone patted him down, it was unlikely anyone would notice them. It wasn’t as comfortable, especially when sitting in a car, but it would have to do while they were here, for how ever long they remained in the city.

 

_“Do you know your way around here?” ... “We can always stop and grab a map when we pick up phones.”_

 

“I grew up in Manhattan and Brooklyn, but I can still find my way around the main roads out here,” Alex offered, knowing he’d be more in his element the more south they went. “It might help to head into Queens to do most of our stocking up, that way we’re both more familiar with our surroundings. Regardless, I do think a map would help and I’m sure things could have changed since we were last here.”

 

“You know, you remind me of him sometimes,” Alex said after a moment, watching Dante filling up a thermos. More than once, the vampire had wondered if he just had a type. “Vincent, I mean,” he added, knowing they had maybe an hour or so before it was dark enough to get back on the road.

 

~

 

_“You know you can tell me anything, right? If you ever happen to have something you want to vent about, I’m here to listen.”_

 

Dante looked over at his partner, staring for probably a loaded moment too long before looking away with a shake of his head. He could only imagine how well that would go. Him venting. For the most part he did know he could tell Alex anything, and that trust was why his partner already knew him infinitely better than any person, alive or dead, ever had. What little he didn’t know was probably only a matter of time in coming.

 

Well. All except for one small thing. The only thing he was positive the vampire would never be able to hear.

 

_“Almost makes me miss the woods… No one looks at you funny or tries to call the cops if you’re walking around armed. ...It’s probably a bit much for clothes shopping though...”_

 

“I always miss the woods,” Dante agreed as he pulled out his own silver blade, inspecting it in the dim lights with a critical eye. “No people there.”

 

Dante took a cue from his partner, sliding a Beretta FS into a leather holster and tucking it into the back of his jeans until the clip clicked over his belt. He gave it an experimental tug to make sure it was secure, and sighed quietly to himself as he popped out the magazine. Fully loaded it should have held fifteen 9mm rounds with another in the chamber. He had eight. It didn’t help that there was no way he could conceal his silver knife without a much heavier jacket, which he didn’t have. The blade wasn’t as low-profile as Alex’s daggers, and he regretfully tucked it into the case with their other weapons.

 

_“I grew up in Manhattan and Brooklyn, but I can still find my way around the main roads out here… It might help to head into Queens to do most of our stocking up, that way we’re both more familiar with our surroundings. Regardless, I do think a map would help and I’m sure things could have changed since we were last here.”_

 

“Copy that. Map’s officially on the list.” Dante wrote neatly at the bottom of a too-long list, hoping they’d be able to scratch together the funds for everything they needed.

 

_“You know, you remind me of him sometimes… Vincent, I mean.”_

 

“Oh, so you’re saying he was dashingly handsome and roguishly charming,” Dante drawled, unable to resist the jab as he hefted a heavy case onto the table and popped it open, “sounds like a keeper.”

 

Dante glanced over at his partner, curiosity getting the best of him. “Or should I not take that as a compliment?”

 

Their gear efficiently packed and in about as much of good working order as they could manage with what they had, Dante returned his full attention to his partner, his cigarette and his coffee. The second pot was just as overly-strong and bitter as the first, and he chugged it like medicine with a nicotine chaser. He supposed if some kind of monster didn’t get to him first, he’d eventually off himself with his own bad habits.

 

~

 

The lack of an answer or response Alex got from Dante made him wonder if the hunter didn’t actually trust him as much as the vampire had hoped. Or maybe the things Dante didn’t allow himself to vent were just as difficult to talk about as his parents. It was hard to tell, but Alex was trying to be optimistic in that he wasn’t the issue here.

 

_“I always miss the woods. No people there.”_

 

“I can’t say I dislike the convenience of the city,” Alex admitted, knowing if not for that he’d gladly have become a hermit after everything that had happened to him. “But I’ve never been comfortable in a crowd.”

 

_“Oh, so you’re saying he was dashingly handsome and roguishly charming, sounds like a keeper.”_

 

A soft laugh passed Alex’s lips and now more than ever he was glad he couldn’t blush because he knew he’d be bright red right now if he could. Looking away, Alex thought for a moment. Dante hadn’t been wrong though, Vincent had been all of those things, but that hadn’t been what Alex was getting at with his comment.

 

_“Or should I not take that as a compliment?”_

 

“You can take it however you want, but I mean it as a compliment,” Alex said with a shrug and a little smile just barely tugging at his mouth. “I mean, you’re both stubborn, obsessed with your work, maybe a little too passionate at times...” Alex sighed a little before continuing. “You're both good at what you do, you don’t back down easily, and there’s nothing necessarily wrong with being passionate about things.”

 

Trailing off, there was a hint of sorrow in Alex’s tone. “He was...everything to me, if that makes sense? I think the most painful part of what happened is Vincent probably died thinking I ran away, or that I hated him.”

 

With Dante’s attention on presumably the three most important things in the room, Alex pondered whether he should go on. Vincent was far from a touchy subject, though there were details Alex would have to omit regardless of how he approached it.

 

“I actually met Vincent when I was ten years old, he was about twenty-five,” Alex said after a minute. “My father, Gregory Harrison, had...well, he was a troubled man who liked to gamble and drink after my mother died when I was very young.”

 

Wandering down memory lane, it was easy to picture that evening, the sight of the ajar door to the cramped apartment him and his fathered lived in until that night. The sound of fists striking flesh was vivid, even now. Shaking his head, Alex brought himself back to the present moment.

 

“My father was abusive, it showed, everyone knew, but child protective services didn’t exactly exist in the early 1900s,” Alex said. “Vincent was actually...collecting on a debt and it’s a long story but I came home to him beating my father into a bloody pulp. When Vincent first looked at me I was afraid, he had blood all over his knuckles and stalked over, but then I think he realized how that might scare a couple of kids.”

 

Thinking for a moment, Alex laughed again, “he told me later that seeing how beat up I was pissed him off even more. He ended up adopting me after that. The only thing I held on to from that period of my life was an old picture of my mother. ...I think it was still in Vincent’s house when I left.”

 

~

 

_“I mean, you’re both stubborn, obsessed with your work, maybe a little too passionate at times… You're both good at what you do, you don’t back down easily, and there’s nothing necessarily wrong with being passionate about things.”_

 

Dante nodded once and shrugged, unable to disagree that Alex had him pegged. He knew the vampire was being generous with his assessment, and probably a lot kinder than Dante would have been with his own. “Too passionate” was a broad term.

 

“Thanks,” Dante said softly, pulling at his cigarette to combat a flutter of warmth in his chest. It was easier than accepting a compliment, anyway.

 

_“He was...everything to me, if that makes sense? I think the most painful part of what happened is Vincent probably died thinking I ran away, or that I hated him.”_

 

Dante studied his partner, wondering if he was imagining the subtext in those words. Somehow he doubted it. It was a little overwhelming at times to realize that in spite of everything they had been through, there was still so much he didn’t know about Alex.

 

Listening to Alex talk about Vincent, Dante had a niggle of doubt that being compared to the man was in any way a good thing. Sure, it sounded like Alex’s life had been somewhat improved, if it could be called that, by trading in an abusive father. If anyone could sympathize with that, Dante could. He couldn’t help but wonder though if maybe Dante was just a replacement. Fooling himself into thinking that what they had was special when in reality it was just a familiar recipe.

 

_“He told me later that seeing how beat up I was pissed him off even more. He ended up adopting me after that. The only thing I held on to from that period of my life was an old picture of my mother. ...I think it was still in Vincent’s house when I left.”_

 

“I’m sorry you lost that,” Dante apologized, words mumbled around his cigarette. “Any chance that might still be around somewhere? I don’t know, maybe his descendants have it, or it ended up in a museum or something?” It was barely a straw to grasp at, but Dante figured he could at least try to help somehow. It seemed that their current situation was a trip down memory lane for them both. He knew that if a picture of his own mother existed, he’d move heaven and earth to get it back.

 

“Do you know what happened to him?” Dante couldn’t resist asking, “Vincent?” He wondered if the vampire had ever tried to find out after everything. He knew back then it wouldn't have been quite as simple as a google search, but he was sure Alex had at least been curious.

 

~

 

Alex could have been more specific, but that ran the risk things being taken the wrong way. There was an intensity to both of them, ‘fiery’ was another word he might use, ‘moody’ was another, but he doubted that’d go over as well. In a way, it was like standing next to a bonfire at times, comforted by the warmth and light even if he ran the risk of getting burnt. As Alex mulled over his thoughts, he wondered if maybe it was for the best Dante didn’t take the bait when Alex offered it, as subtle as it had been.

 

_“Thanks.”_

 

The vampire wasn’t really sure how to explain a man who had filled a number of roles in his life. At first Vincent had been just his guardian, a strange man he barely knew who took him in and raised him, despite Vincent being no older than Alex had been when he died. He’d filled the role of mentor too, once Alex was old enough, once Alex had killed someone and proved effective at it over the years. Working under Vincent around that time wasn’t bad, but he didn’t play favorites and Alex had to prove himself just as much as everyone else. That all changed when he’d turned 20, but he didn’t think Dante would understand, nor did Alex want to explain, so he didn’t.

 

All of that taken into consideration, despite the similarities, they were completely different people. Dante’s hesitance to kill another human being for example, even the remorse he seemed to display over it, was something that would have been foreign and strange on Vincent. If it came to a matter of morals, Dante was the better of the two, though Alex couldn’t bring himself to say as much. A small smile formed on Alex lips suddenly and he briefly thought of telling Dante he was a better shot than Vincent ever was.

 

“He gestured a lot when he talked,” Alex said suddenly, trying to picture Vincent in his mind’s eye, recalling minuscule details of the other man. “But that’s...more of a stereotype, isn’t it?”

 

_“I’m sorry you lost that. Any chance that might still be around somewhere? I don’t know, maybe his descendants have it, or it ended up in a museum or something?”_

 

“Vincent wouldn’t have descendants,” Alex said, a little too abruptly, as if the idea bothered him. “He was...he couldn’t have kids, is what I mean,” the vampire added, though there was something else there he wasn’t going to say. “He did have cousins, who probably have descendants still around, maybe. I’m not sure what he would have done with my things after I left, I can’t imagine him throwing them out... A museum is a possibility, it might have all ended up in an estate auction for all I know.”

 

_“Do you know what happened to him? Vincent?”_

 

Alex shook his head a little, then shrugged, a briefly pained look crossed his face at the question, but faded just as quickly as it appeared. The moment Alex escaped from Nikolai’s clutches he hopped onto a boat and ran. He wanted to find Vincent, more than anything, even just to see how he was doing. Still, the idea of potentially putting anyone who he cared about in danger scared him more than the idea of Nikolai dragging him ‘home’ to the coven house did.

 

“I was hoping to find out tonight, actually,” Alex admitted after a moment. “As soon as I got away from the coven, I ran as far away as I could get at the time. I was sure they’d never track me down in the middle of a war in Europe and the risk of leading them to anyone who mattered to me was too great.”

 

For a good minute, Alex didn’t say much else, now actually wondering what Vincent might have done with everything Alex left behind. He almost regretting not grabbing the picture of his mother, because he hadn’t expected to go missing for eleven years and then keep running after.

 

“I...this is terrible, but I can’t remember what my mother looked like. The picture helped, but it’s been so long,” Alex spoke, his voice soft. “I was about five when I last saw her, she was going on a trip somewhere...” Rather than sounding pained, Alex just sounded as if he was struggling to remember things, details that evaded him. “I...don’t even remember where she was going, or why, only that she died before she could make it home.”

 

Glancing over at Dante, Alex shook his head, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to get morbid.”

 

~

 

_“He gestured a lot when he talked…. But that’s...more of a stereotype, isn’t it?”_

 

“Like the stereotypes that Italians are hot-headed?” Dante winked, “yeah. No truth to that shit at all.”

 

_“Vincent wouldn’t have descendants…. He was...he couldn’t have kids, is what I mean.”_

 

Dante’s suspicions were growing, but he kept his mouth shut. That was harder than it should have been. His intuition had never failed him before, and he doubted it was starting now. After asking if Alex knew what had happened to Vincent, he didn’t miss the look that crossed the vampire’s face. It confirmed the idea growing in his mind and the hunter looked away, feeling suddenly self-conscious. It stoked the embers of unease burning in his gut, and he didn’t know what to do with that. It was clear to him now that Vincent and Alex had been more than friendly acquaintances, but he was also positive that wasn’t information Alex meant to share with him. He was determined to respect that, even if it went against everything he wanted.

 

_“I was hoping to find out tonight, actually… As soon as I got away from the coven, I ran as far away as I could get at the time. I was sure they’d never track me down in the middle of a war in Europe and the risk of leading them to anyone who mattered to me was too great.”_

 

There it was. All but an admission. Dante felt a little nauseous and decided to blame that on the almost two pots of coffee he had now chugged down on an empty stomach. The cigarette helped, keeping the perpetually grinding gears in his mind and body half-occupied. He couldn’t help but wonder how he stacked up against somebody who had been such a driving force to the vampire so early in his life, and if he could ever hope to compare.

 

_“I...this is terrible, but I can’t remember what my mother looked like. The picture helped, but it’s been so long… I was about five when I last saw her, she was going on a trip somewhere… I...don’t even remember where she was going, or why, only that she died before she could make it home.”_

 

Dante felt a real pang of sympathy at that. He couldn’t even imagine. While memories of his father stirred up unsettled feelings of anger, bitterness, and so much more, the ideal he’d built in his head of who his mother might have been was far more painful. It was easy to make her into an angel in his mind, a long-lost concept encompassing warmth, comfort, and the kind of love he’d always craved most. A distant saint, unblemished and unattainable. He couldn’t grasp the idea of having known her before losing her.

 

“It’s not terrible,” Dante tried to rationalize, knowing he owed them both a little logical thinking after his earlier outburst. It was difficult not to feel somehow invested in Alex, even pains that were decades old. “It’s been a long time. Memory doesn’t last forever,” the hunter smirked. “Or at least that’s what they tell me.”

 

He hesitated, before adding, “it’s good that you got to know her. At least for a little while.” It was a reminder to him that time wasn’t something he could take for granted, not while he was a mortal keeping company with the eternal.

 

_“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for this to get morbid.”_

 

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Dante said plainly, “it’s been that kinda night. Hell, that kinda week.” Maybe longer than that if he stopped to think about it. They led a morbid life.

 

“It sounds like we both get to dig up some history tonight,” the hunter sighed heavily. He hoped the vampire would find the closure he was looking for. At the same time, he almost dreaded what that might mean.

 

~

 

_“Like the stereotypes that Italians are hot-headed? Yeah. No truth to that shit at all.”_

 

“Right, the two most hot-headed people I’ve ever met,” Alex breathed a half-formed laugh on his lips. “And both of you just coincidentally happen to be Italian.”

 

There were times when Alex wanted to tell Dante everything, maybe not the bloody, gore-filled details of certain aspects of his life, but everything else. Then there were times like now, when Alex wanted to ease into the details as if he were building a framework to go off of, or like how an artist might work on a rough sketch before lines and adding color or depth. For now, Alex hoped only to impart on Dante how important Vincent had been to him.

 

Right now, the mood was dark and with Vincent dead and gone it seemed out of place to talk about the happier moments they had shared in life. What Alex realized, in a way that startled him, was he was grieving and mourning decades too late. It seemed wrong, out of place even, to drop the bomb that Vincent had been more than a friend, guardian, or mentor to him. He wasn’t even sure if bringing that up would be proper giving the context, or if it’d be ‘tee em eye’ according to kids these days, or how Dante would react.

 

_“It’s not terrible. It’s been a long time. Memory doesn’t last forever. Or at least that’s what they tell me.”_

 

“I don’t remember what my father looked like, but I suppose that’s just me being lucky,” Alex said, no vitriol in his voice, but contentment with having no idea what the man who had abused him looked like. “I think I took more after my mother, or at least her side of the family...” Feeling his lips pull just a little into a frown, the vampire could almost draw up features, but not a face. “It’s like trying to remember a puzzle by its pieces and not being able to put it back together.”

 

_“...it’s good that you got to know her. At least for a little while.”_

 

“I don’t even know where she’s buried,” Alex admitted after a moment. “My father never took me to her grave. I...think the funeral was closed casket,” once again, the vampire seemed as if he were struggling to remember something. In his mind, he could almost hear the gently, breezy chime of a woman’s laughter. “I think it’s the best anyone can hope for, to have at least a little while...”

 

What Alex didn’t want to mention was how it went beyond forgetting what his mother looked like, why she’d left, where she was going, or how she died, but there was a sense of something missing. His mother was a blurry figure in his memory, made a little more opaque at times when he focused. The thing that left him uneasy was that it was like there was a gaping void beside her he couldn’t fill no matter what he did or how hard he tried to focus.

 

_“Hey, don’t apologize, it’s been that kinda night. Hell, that kinda week.”_

 

“It’s like every night is Halloween for us,” Alex said after a moment, “only the ghosts, ghouls and goblins are real and there’s no candy.”

 

_“It sounds like we both get to dig up some history tonight.”_

 

“Do you mind if I walk with you to Rafter’s?” Alex asked after a moment, knowing they’d be heading their separate ways for the night after they handled the clothes and phones issues. “I’ve always had a better grasp of how to get to places when I’ve been there before.” There was a pause, as Alex contemplated how him walking into a hunter bar, neutral zone or not, would go over. “That and I don’t want to be wandering around with a map looking like a tourist in the city where I was born.”

 

One thing Alex wasn’t ready to admit was how he didn’t want to leave Dante’s side, even for a few hours. The dread and agony of the few moments he’d spent trapped in a hunter’s car trunk, not knowing if he’d see Dante again, had been torture. Silently, Alex reminded himself it would literally be a few hours and the safest place for Dante to be right then was in a bar filled with hunters who weren’t part of some crazy cult.

 

~

 

_“I think I took more after my mother, or at least her side of the family... It’s like trying to remember a puzzle by its pieces and not being able to put it back together.”_

 

“I’m sure I take after my mom, too,” Dante supplied softly, unable to offer any real comfort. “But I guess if we didn’t have some daddy and mommy issues we wouldn’t be hunting demons for kicks, right?” It was a recurring fantasy, wondering how they might have turned out under normal circumstances.

 

_“I don’t even know where she’s buried. My father never took me to her grave. I...think the funeral was closed casket...”_

 

“If you want I might be able to do some digging. Death records are public, so there’s a chance I could find out where she’s buried.” It was a carefully neutral offer, because despite their trip down memory lane Dante didn’t want to pry. He only knew that if he was in Alex’s shoes, if he had the chance, he’d want to know. He’d tried to find records of his own mother on many occasions, but without a name he’d had very little to go off of.

 

_“It’s like every night is Halloween for us, only the ghosts, ghouls and goblins are real and there’s no candy.”_

 

“Seems unfair,” Dante jibed mildly, “feels like we could at least get some candy out of it. Instead we get nicotine and paranoia.” He studied his nearly burnt-out cigarette butt, “or maybe that’s just me.”

 

_“Do you mind if I walk with you to Rafter’s?”_

 

“Of course not,” Dante was inwardly a little relieved that the vampire wasn’t planning to make a full break for it the second they hit the city limits. It felt like their enemies were too close, their death-defying encounters too recent to make wandering alone a comforting option.

 

“I should probably warn you, I haven’t seen Rafter in a few years but I know he can be quite...” the human trailed off, trying to come up with a word that fit, “friendly.” Dante grimaced. “He’s a big personality is all. Just a heads-up.” The hunter was curious if the big Irishman had changed much with the years, but somehow he suspected not.

 

Dante wasn’t sure how he felt about being back amongst hunters. Not the odd loner clashing on their path, but real hunters gathered together like a mismatched family. He wasn’t sure how they’d feel about Alex either. Peaceful vampires weren’t exactly unheard of, and were even welcome in the guilds, but as far as he knew they had never partnered up with a human hunter before. At the very least he assumed there would be a lot of questions, which was to be expected. He just didn’t want Alex feeling unwelcome or uncomfortable.

 

“When I got old enough to hold a gun my dad started dragging me along on hunts,” Dante supplied the vaguest details possible of what had been a nightmarish phase of his childhood, “we traveled away from the church a lot. That’s probably where my rebellion started, seeing the way other people, even other hunters, lived outside. I don’t know if he and my dad were exactly friends, but they did meet up a lot to exchange information, or hunt things we couldn’t take on alone.” Dante smiled mirthlessly, “he really took a shining to me though. I don’t know why... believe it or not, I was an angry little shit.”

 

He held up a hand as he lit a new cigarette, “I know, try to contain your shock.”

 

“Anyways. He told me once if I needed a way out, to get away from my dad, I could come find him. Said he’d protect me.” Dante paused regretfully, eyes distant. There were times he regretted not taking the old man up on his offer. He’d been too full of pride, fury, and self-destruction to take the lifeline when it was offered.

 

“Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t, never woulda met you.” He flashed a smile at the vampire and meant every word.

 

There were many other paths he could have traveled at various times on his journey, but none of them would have led him to Alex. If he was the type to believe in a god, he might have considered it divine intervention. Then again there was nothing heavenly about their current situation, both of them exhausted and licking their wounds in a cheap hotel room filled with clouds of cigarette smoke and war stories.

 

~

_“I’m sure I take after my mom, too. But I guess if we didn’t have some daddy and mommy issues we wouldn’t be hunting demons for kicks, right?”_

 

“What else would we be doing?” Alex rhetorically asked, giving a shrug. “I’ve never really put much thought into it. To be honest, I don’t know what I’d be doing if I had a choice in any of this. ...Maybe this is better, I mean, hunting things and saving people seems a more worthwhile cause than working a 9 to 5 and having a nice house with a picket fence.”

 

_“If you want I might be able to do some digging. Death records are public, so there’s a chance I could find out where she’s buried.”_

 

“Could you?” Alex asked, looking both surprised and hopeful.

 

While Alex knew well enough it was possible to track down where she was buried, so many things had gotten in the way. For one, life with Vincent had been hectic and busy, leaving little time for Alex to ponder about his biological parents. Then Nikolai and the coven came along and for decades Alex avoided New York City like the plague and never stayed long when he passed through.

 

_“Seems unfair, feels like we could at least get some candy out of it. Instead we get nicotine and paranoia. Or maybe that’s just me.”_

 

“Well, you get nicotine and paranoia,” Alex agreed, feeling a little better about the entire morbid conversation. “I just get paranoia, an allergy to garlic bread, and a craving for blood.”

 

_“I should probably warn you, I haven’t seen Rafter in a few years but I know he can be quite...friendly. He’s a big personality is all. Just a heads-up.”_

 

“As long as I’m not dodging silver bullets and stakes, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Alex replied, not entirely sure what to expect now, but deciding it was safe enough. “There’s not some secret hunter handshake I’m going to have to memorize, is there?”

 

_“When I got old enough to hold a gun my dad started dragging me along on hunts,” ... “he really took a shining to me though. I don’t know why... believe it or not, I was an angry little shit.”_

 

For a while, Alex did what he was good at and listened, it wasn’t fun hearing about how bad Dante’s childhood was. Even when Vincent had him doing less than illegal things as a kid, he was never treated as anything other than a kid. Most of his time was spent learning, catching up on things he might have missed while in an abusive household and then promptly doing everything he could to impress Vincent with his progress. There had even been time when he didn’t have obligations and he was free to act his age. The picture painted of Dante’s childhood, meanwhile, was bleak and sounded like something a child soldier might recount.

 

_“I know, try to contain your shock.”_

 

“I’ll try to maintain my composure,” Alex deadpanned upon hearing the least shocking news of his life.

 

_“Anyways. He told me once if I needed a way out, to get away from my dad, I could come find him. Said he’d protect me.”_

 

“Why didn’t you?” Alex inquired, curious, though he suspected he knew why Dante wouldn’t have asked for help even when it was offered. “Never mind, stupid question.”

 

_“Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t, never woulda met you.”_

 

“I’d be a pile of dust right now if it wasn’t for you,” Alex noted, feeling a small smile form at the memory. “I’m much happier not being dust, in case you were wondering. You might even say your stubbornness is why I’m still around.”

 

Out of all the outcomes Alex could have imagined, the day Dante had rescued him was the crossroads where he knew he would either die at the hands of his coven, or live to keep fighting. Before that, it had been a struggle to keep going, to run, hunt when he could, and then keep running, always alone. Here and now, surrounded by cigarette smoke and war stories, in a cheap hotel room licking their wounds, Alex doubted he would have changed anything.

 

It had crossed his mind, once or twice, what would have become of him if he’d never run off after that argument with Vincent. He supposed they would have been happy growing old together, that much was certain. Another certainty that Alex knew at the core of his being, was that he would have never held a gun, a knife, or any other weapon properly if not for Nikolai’s intervention. If Alex had simply stayed put, listened to Vincent, had been content feeling like a bird with clipped wings, he’d have died of old age in a gilded cage.

 

“Do you think we should get going soon?” The vampire finally asked, checking the time. “Bloodlust aside, I’d have to say the limited hours of operation I have is the worst part of being undead.”

 

~

 

_“I’ve never really put much thought into it. To be honest, I don’t know what I’d be doing if I had a choice in any of this. ...Maybe this is better, I mean, hunting things and saving people seems a more worthwhile cause than working a 9 to 5 and having a nice house with a picket fence.”_

 

“Really?” Dante wasn’t sure why but he was surprised. “I guess I don’t have a solid idea either, but I mean... I think about it a lot. What life would be like as normal people.” He scrunched his nose at the mention of a regular job, though the white picket fence didn’t sound unbearable. “If we’re living in suburbia in this little theoretical of yours, we’re getting a dog. Don’t argue, it’s happening.” He realized a beat too late that even in all their most ridiculous fantasies, he still imagined himself with Alex. He was probably taking it for granted that the vampire did too.

 

_“Could you?”_

“Yeah,” Dante was glad Alex seemed open to the idea, and grateful he could do even some small thing to help. “I just need her name. If you have it, her birthday and place of birth would help a lot too, but I can start there. It’s the age of information my friend, nothing is impossible.”

 

_“Well, you get nicotine and paranoia... I just get paranoia, an allergy to garlic bread, and a craving for blood.”_

 

“Mmm. Now I want garlic bread,” the hunter mused, not making eye contact in a futile effort not to smile. “Sounds delicious.”

 

_“There’s not some secret hunter handshake I’m going to have to memorize, is there?”_

 

“Um, of course there is,” Dante scoffed with a straight face, “that’s how hunters know who’s in the club. I’ll have to teach it to you so they know you’re in. Now can you snap your fingers and cross your eyes at the same time? Cause that’s the important part.”

 

_“Why didn’t you? Never mind, stupid question.”_

 

Dante raised his eyebrows, because Alex knew him well enough to answer that question. How the vampire had ever put up with his teenage self in the first place, the hunter still couldn’t fathom. He’d been all false bravado and flaring tempers, running on sheer hatred and luck. It was a miracle he’d ever survived long enough to meet the vampire at all.

 

“Because I was an idiot,” he deadpanned anyways, “wanted to take on the world on myself. Now I’m still an idiot, I just wanna take on the world with a vampire.”

 

_“I’d be a pile of dust right now if it wasn’t for you... I’m much happier not being dust, in case you were wondering. You might even say your stubbornness is why I’m still around.”_

 

Dante didn’t mean to smile like he did, but Alex had that effect on him sometimes. “Yeah well...” the hunter swirled his mug of coffee like wine, “try to remember that next time I piss you off by being stubborn.” The hunter’s eyes twinkled as he took a long sip, the old familiar banter relaxing him like a drug. “I like you better when you’re not dust too. Most of the time.”

 

Dante shouldn’t have needed his partner’s constant reassurance like he did, and he knew that. But it still set his mind at ease to hear Alex say it out loud, to have some verbal confirmation that Dante wasn’t the only one whose life was better with the other one around. Maybe it was the child in him, still lost and secretly searching for that comforting bond. Maybe it was his own long war with loneliness, or sheer immaturity. But it warmed his heart in unexpected ways to hear those words. As foolish as he felt for it, he suspected it always would.

 

_“Do you think we should get going soon? Bloodlust aside, I’d have to say the limited hours of operation I have is the worst part of being undead.”_

 

“I don’t know, I think I’m getting pretty comfortable being nocturnal myself,” the hunter got back on his feet, checking the curtains to ensure it was fully nightfall. “I’m all for heading out though. Moonlight’s wastin’.” He couldn’t remember passing any stores on their way to the hotel, but he had been half-comatose at the time so he guessed that didn’t account for much.

 

“Gas station?” He suggested, hefting a backpack over his shoulders and picking up a bag in each hand. “Might be better if you drive, if you’re up to it.”

 


	6. Sugar We're Goin' Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suburbia fantasies, sugar garbage, skinny jeans, and a safe harbor.

_“If we’re living in suburbia in this little theoretical of yours, we’re getting a dog. Don’t argue, it’s happe_ ning.”

 

“Why not a cat?” Alex asked, “not that I have anything against dogs, but cats are pretty self-sufficient,” he added, in his ‘I’m not arguing, but here’s a counterpoint anyway’ voice.

 

There was never really a moment, even when thinking of the most outrageous of circumstances, where Alex couldn’t imagine himself without Dante. Since they met it had been like that, for Alex, there was no possible outcome in which Dante and him weren’t joined at the hip. Though he always wondered how realistic, them being together until the end, really was in the long term. Given Dante’s disinterest in Alex’s subtle hints at being interested, he’d started to wonder if Dante was planning on ditching him one day, maybe on the off chance Dante reached retirement age. For some reason, the thought of Dante shacking up with someone else to grow old with bothered Alex in a way he couldn’t articulate.

 

_“I just need her name. If you have it, her birthday and place of birth would help a lot too, but I can start there. It’s the age of information my friend, nothing is impossible.”_

 

“Her name when she wasn’t married to my father was Elena Novak, but it’d be Elena Harrison on any public record after that,” Alex supplied, trying to think of when she might have been born. “She was only twenty when I was born, twenty-five when she died...Her date of birth would be sometime in 1880...” He trailed off, not having an exact date or place of birth. “She immigrated here, I...don’t actually recall which country she was born in, my family’s a giant mess of Eastern and Northern European backgrounds, so I don’t know how helpful that’ll be.”

 

_“Mmm. Now I want garlic bread. Sounds delicious.”_

 

“First you want to get a dog without my input and now you’re getting garlic bread without me?” Alex sighed, woefully. “The things I’m willing to put up with...”

 

_“Um, of course there is, that’s how hunters know who’s in the club. I’ll have to teach it to you so they know you’re in. Now can you snap your fingers and cross your eyes at the same time? Cause that’s the important part.”_

 

Alex couldn’t hold the soft snicker that passed his lips at the thought of anyone doing what Dante just described. In the very least though, he was confident enough that the group of hunters in Rafter’s Guild wouldn’t try to murder him on sight. Now if someone actually did do a ridiculous finger snapping, eye crossing handshake, he’d probably have to step out and contemplate his unlife choices.

 

_“Because I was an idiot, wanted to take on the world on myself. Now I’m still an idiot, I just wanna take on the world with a vampire.”_

 

“...I feel like the second option is a little less idiotic than the first,” Alex said after a moment, brow furrowed. “If it helps, I don’t mind you being an idiot, because if you weren’t one you wouldn’t have been dumb enough to interrupt a vampire execution.”

 

_“Yeah well...try to remember that next time I piss you off by being stubborn. I like you better when you’re not dust too. Most of the time.”_

 

It had been over ninety years since Alex had last felt his heart beat, but in moments like this, he could almost swear it stuttered a little bit in his chest. The hunter’s smile was kind of infectious and Alex felt the faintest smile start to tug at the corners of his mouth. He could be completely blank around anyone else, but it had only gotten harder and harder to mask his emotions around Dante.

 

“So you’re saying I should keep that in mind all the time? As in constantly?” Alex replied automatically, almost grinning now, “‘Most of the time’ as in when I’m not telling you to eat your vegetables?”

 

_“I don’t know, I think I’m getting pretty comfortable being nocturnal myself, I’m all for heading out though. Moonlight’s wastin’.”_

 

“If we were both nocturnal that’d be great actually,” Alex commented, alluding more to Dante shifting his sleep schedule than anything else. “We’d waste a lot less time that way, now that I think about it.”

 

_“Gas station?”_

 

“Do we need gas though? Since we’re eventually planning on ditching the car.” Alex asked, “I think most convenience stores have prepaid phones, but for clothing we can maybe hit a shopping center in Queens.”

 

_“Might be better if you drive, if you’re up to it.”_

 

“I can drive, it’s not a problem,” the vampire said automatically, knowing they had to load their things up in the car, return the keycards, and from there it was a matter of finding their way around.

 

~

 

_“Why not a cat? Not that I have anything against dogs, but cats are pretty self-sufficient...”_

 

Dante cast a look of long-suffering at his partner, “I don’t know. I just always liked dogs. Why not both? Hashtag compromise.” The last comment was thrown in as a confusing jab, and he should have felt a little guilty but he couldn’t find it in him. The vampire was too easy a target sometimes.

 

_“Her name when she wasn’t married to my father was Elena Novak, but it’d be Elena Harrison on any public record after that...”_

 

Dante knew he wouldn’t forget the information Alex was giving even if he tried, but for the sake of caution he still jotted it down in the back of his creased notepad. The curse of a good memory was remembering almost everything, while suffering from the perpetual fear that he was forgetting something.

 

“Let me get settled down with a good WiFi connection somewhere and I’ll see what I can find,” he said like a promise, even knowing he couldn’t guarantee anything. Records got fumbled, mixed up and lost all the time. While he was more than confident in his own investigative abilities, he wasn’t as certain those files and records had been preserved with time. He only knew he had to give it the old college effort. He had to at least know he had tried.

 

_“If it helps, I don’t mind you being an idiot, because if you weren’t one you wouldn’t have been dumb enough to interrupt a vampire execution.”_

 

“I guess we all make mistakes,” Dante shrugged, the smile easier now. He was immeasurably relieved to feel the familiar ebb and tide back between them, like the rocking of an old ship. The burden of their situation was crushing. Phantom threats dogging the edges of his mind. But there was still this, still them... And that was all it took to bring him back to reality. Maybe he shouldn’t find the word idiot complimentary, but when it came from Alex it was as close as the pair came to terms of endearment.

 

_“So you’re saying I should keep that in mind all the time? As in constantly? ‘Most of the time’ as in when I’m not telling you to eat your vegetables?”_

 

“Um. Vegetables are disgusting,” Dante spread his arms in protest, “it’s like a universal truth. If we were supposed to be eating grass, cheeseburgers wouldn’t exist. I’ll just leave it at that.” To his mind that was pretty irrefutable evidence.

 

It was nice to have a moment of levity after their terrible week, but the hunter knew it couldn’t last. It never did. Even so, Dante loved nothing more than watching Alex’s impassive facade slip into humor or embarrassment or tenderness. Those were his favorite moments, and he hid them away like hoarded treasure to revisit in the quiet hours before sleep.

 

_“If we were both nocturnal that’d be great actually... We’d waste a lot less time that way, now that I think about it.”_

 

“Hey now,” Dante grimaced at the implication, “I try to sleep during the day. You know. When I sleep.” Those stolen hours felt rare lately, during any time of the day. The hunter really did try to keep his schedule on par with the vampire’s, but when most of his sleep came from stolen naps in the passenger seat or a semi-coma scrounged together once or twice a week in a real bed, that was always difficult. To Dante sleep was like food: a necessary evil, and always in short supply. He resisted it at all costs, always knowing waiting on him was a chore for his partner.

 

_“Do we need gas though? Since we’re eventually planning on ditching the car.”_

 

“I was thinking stopping at some stop-n-rob to grab phones actually, but I don’t know. I wasn’t really with it last night, at least not enough to notice the gas gauge.” Dante still felt bad about that, but he’d just have to make up for lost time. He didn’t like feeling useless. “I think we should have enough to get into the city at least. No point wasting money on a car we’re just gonna dump soon.” He agreed a shopping center of some kind would be a better stop for clothes. They were looking awfully scraggly for a couple of tourists.

 

_“I can drive, it’s not a problem.”_

 

Nodding his agreement, Dante left Alex to start loading up while he walked down to the office to check them out of their room. He wasn’t entirely comfortable with the way the middle-aged clerk dragged his eyes over him, but thankfully that was the worst of what he ran into. Whatever had been watching them before seemed to have retreated, if only temporarily. It was a nice change.

 

~

 

_“I don’t know. I just always liked dogs. Why not both? Hashtag compromise.”_

 

“...'Hashtag?’” Alex was giving Dante that ‘I don’t know why you’re making words up again’ look, but understood the compromise bit of it. “Anyway, made up words aside,” he knew well enough it probably wasn’t made up, “since we’re talking about compromises, you don’t mind handling the yard work, do you? I burn a little too easily in the sun and I doubt the neighbors would appreciate the sound of a lawnmower in the middle of the night.”

 

It was almost too easy to imagine the pair of them slipping into some kind of domestic setting. While Alex was joking, to an extent as he couldn’t imagine them settling down, it was kind of nice to imagine how things would be if their lives were different. It also wasn’t too hard to imagine a slightly older version of Dante, with the same scars, tan skin, and maybe more tattoos with a cigarette dangling from his lips on the front porch of a cookie cutter house in the suburbs. Alex imagined the sun setting, but when it came time to try imagining himself in this scenario, it was much harder.

 

While time affected Dante in this theoretical future, Alex could never age. There might be a time for retirement for Dante, if he lived that long, that much Alex understood. The problem was, Alex wasn’t sure if when the time came if he’d still have a role to play in the hunter’s life. Any thought of retiring to the suburbs to live a normal life with the hunter fell apart after that concern crossed his mind. Sad as it was, Alex couldn’t imagine an end for himself that didn’t end in being alone again or dying a final death shortly after his partner.

 

_“Let me get settled down with a good WiFi connection somewhere and I’ll see what I can find.”_

 

Even if Dante forgot, Alex wouldn’t have minded reminding him of her name. There wasn’t much he knew about his mother, aside from how he felt about the few, fleeting memories he had of her. From time to time he’d wondered how differently things might have been if she’d lived, or if Alex’s life was always destined to take a series of unfortunate turns. He knew his father hadn’t been abusive when his mother had been alive, her death seemingly having changed him for the worst.

 

Thinking of his parents, along with the past, Vincent, and a normal life, Alex briefly wondered how he might have turned out if his life had been normal from the start. He supposed he would have grown up borderline illiterate to be a simple laborer like his father, it wasn’t as if their family had money to afford a decent education, or time in the work day for him to pursue one. For some reason, the direction his life would have taken if his mother lived was quite bleak, but he’d been born during a bleak time. Worst of all, this sequence of events ended with him dying well before Dante was born.

 

_“I guess we all make mistakes,”_

 

“It was a good mistake,” Alex retorted, “probably the best mistake you could have made, ever.”

 

_“Um. Vegetables are disgusting, it’s like a universal truth. If we were supposed to be eating grass, cheeseburgers wouldn’t exist. I’ll just leave it at that.”_

 

“Listen, you don’t like vegetables because you’ve probably never had them cooked right,” the vampire crossed his arms over his chest just as the hunter spread his own. “And you can’t live off of cheeseburgers,” he added, as if to say ‘so there’ without saying as much with that faint smile still present.

 

_“Hey now, I try to sleep during the day. You know. When I sleep.”_

 

“So there’s this thing called ‘sleep debt,’ also sometimes known as ‘sleep deficit,’” Alex started, feeling his smile widen just a bit, “it’s what happens when you don’t get enough hours of sleep and eventually you have to pay up. If you slept a little more every day, rather than for a few hours once in a blue moon, you’d have less of a sleep debt, meaning less crashing and burning after never sleeping ever.”

 

Alex knew he was fighting a losing battle when it came to getting Dante to eat and sleep like a normal person, both of which were biological necessities. Despite knowing it was a losing battle, he never stopped trying, even if it was inconvenient at times for them. Then again, he supposed he did somewhat enable Dante’s smoking habit, but he couldn’t imagine his partner without that ever present smoky scent.

_“I was thinking stopping at some stop-n-rob to grab phones actually, but I don’t know. I wasn’t really with it last night, at least not enough to notice the gas gauge.”_

 

“We can do that,” Alex responded, knowing it’d be easier to find the right kind of place as well as faster. As for gas, he hadn’t really paid attention, but the gas light hadn’t come on and he was sure they had a good amount left to at least make it to Queens from their current location.

 

Maybe Alex’s concerns about looking like a pair of tourists was being generous. As it was, they looked a little closer to the city’s homeless population than the Hawaiian shirt and khaki-wearing tourists infesting the city. They’d probably needed new clothes over a week ago, but a week ago they’d been far from the city and anyone who might care how they looked.

 

By the time Dante came back out, Alex had most of their things loaded up in the back of the car, though he’d been careful to put anything valuable well out of sight. He was still a bit worried about someone smashing the window open to grab something quick and easy to steal. He also made a mental note to park them in well-lit areas when they did stop, because as it was so much had already gone wrong in the last few days.

 

“So, we still don’t know how Mr. Sunglasses knew where to find us,” Alex commented as he passed by Dante to double check that’d he’d gotten everything. “Or how who or whatever is following us is keeping tab, but at least that being watched feeling is gone for now... Right? I’m not feeling anything strange, so maybe we lost them for now.”

 

Thankfully, at the moment, it seemed as if all was well. What worried Alex was the simple fact that it never stayed that way and in the least, he wanted to be prepared for whatever might come their way.

 

~

 

_“...since we’re talking about compromises, you don’t mind handling the yard work, do you?”_

 

“I’ll be a regular Bryce Lane as long as I don’t have to wash dishes,” Dante played along with the fantasy, “how do you feel about a koi pond? I want a hammock, too, or one of those porch swings. Bout time I got a little vitamin D in my life… nocturnal or not.” If he was being completely honest Dante didn’t really miss the sun, or nice weather or any of the countless things they both tended to skip out on regularly. It seemed like a small price to pay.

 

_“It was a good mistake, probably the best mistake you could have made, ever.”_

 

Dante couldn’t even begin to disagree with that. Out of the many massive mistakes and blunders which stitched together composed his entire life, there were a select few he had never regretted. Meeting Alex, even under the bizarre circumstances, was one of them. The most important one.

 

_“Listen, you don’t like vegetables because you’ve probably never had them cooked right...”_

 

Dante laughed quietly, shaking his head. “What, are you gonna cook vegetables for me?” Dante gestured humorously to their sparse surroundings, no real kitchen to speak of. “I’d love to see that.” He disagreed on principle that a man couldn’t survive on cheeseburgers, but figured it was entirely possible Alex had never tasted one so he probably wasn’t an expert. Also the idea of Alex cooking was strangely endearing, not that it would ever happen.

 

The hunter groaned as Alex started talking about the merits of a regular sleep schedule, a conversation he wasn’t unfamiliar with. “Jesus Christ,” he grumbled without any real venom, “give it a rest. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right?” It wasn’t that the vampire was wrong, because of course he wasn’t. Dante was sure his quality of life could be pretty easily improved by getting a solid night’s rest. “Kinda hard to focus on little human shit like brunch and naptime when you’re running with the undead,” Dante shrugged as if that explained it all.

 

After running through their usual double and triple-check of the room to ensure they weren’t leaving anything behind, Dante helped organize the last of their gear into the hatchback. He’d used their last few tarps on their last ride, so he had nothing to cover the bags and cases with. He hoped they wouldn’t pay for that mistake later.

 

_“So, we still don’t know how Mr. Sunglasses knew where to find us, or how who or whatever is following us is keeping tab, but at least that being watched feeling is gone for now... Right? I’m not feeling anything strange, so maybe we lost them for now.”_

 

“We didn’t lose them,” Dante shook his head with a certainty he felt but couldn’t prove, “I just… have a feeling. I think there’s a couple of options. Either they backed off when they spooked us, just laying low until we let our guard down, or…” Option two was grim and he paused, sucking on his teeth pensively. He looked over at his partner, “or we’re doing exactly what they want us to already. Maybe they wanted to drive us into the city for some reason, get us somewhere they have the advantage.”

 

Either way, it wasn’t looking good for them. The threat was far from gone, just looming over their heads like an axe waiting to fall. Dante could only hope that they might have some kind of high ground, in a city Alex had once known well, and hopefully with some allies from the guild. He knew they would be easier to pick off if they weren’t alone, but at the same time… bringing anyone else into the equation seemed… off. He didn’t know if it would change things between them, or even strengthen it.

 

Slumping into the passenger seat and kicking one boot up on the dash, Dante rubbed his thumb over the scabbing cut on his palm. “Maybe we find leads here, maybe we don’t. At the very least we can set ourselves up with gear and some cash, be prepared. Waiting for an attack seems like a shit plan, but unless we find some clues about what we’re up against…” He trailed off, because as much as he hated it, it seemed like their only real option. They were sitting ducks.

 

Dante dipped into the first gas station they came across to buy a pair of disposable phones, which took care of their most pressing need. He snagged more cigarettes, a couple of energy drinks, and a snickers bar on the way out, and if a few wallets disappeared while he happened to be in the store, well… nobody was any the wiser. Back in the car he dumped the pilfered wallets on the floorboard and tore into the candy bar like he hadn’t eaten in days.

 

“Wanna bite?” He tipped the half-eaten bar towards Alex, offering every time despite the repeated answer. “Who knows, you might like it.” He spent the next few minutes powering on their phones and getting them setup, programming each other’s numbers into the pixelated flip screens. He tossed one to Alex before focusing in on their next task: finding a place to shop.

 

“We can probably skip Big and Tall," Dante thought out loud, scanning the various shopping centers as they drove, “There’s a mall up ahead,” Dante smirked at the idea as he pulled a credit card out of one of the wallets. “Figure we can always load up one of these on some new kicks.”

 

~

 

_“I’ll be a regular Bryce Lane as long as I don’t have to wash dishes, how do you feel about a koi pond? I want a hammock, too, or one of those porch swings. Bout time I got a little vitamin D in my life… nocturnal or not.”_

 

"I can wash the dishes as long as I don't have to step outside and get dusted," Alex said, knowing the entire fantasy was just that, a fantasy.

 

_“What, are you gonna cook vegetables for me? I’d love to see that.”_

 

"I'm sure you would," the vampire sighed, knowing full well he couldn't remember the last time they'd had access to a full kitchen. The last time he'd been in one had been back in the coven house and not even during his last stay there prior to his failed execution. "I might be a little bit... _rusty_ , seeing as I haven't needed to cook in..." he trailed off, thinking. "I want to say several decades?"

 

_“Jesus Christ, give it a rest. I’ll sleep when I’m dead, right?”_

 

"...I don't know how to tell you, but being dead isn't particularly restful," Alex quipped back, the morbidity of his comment not lost on him.

 

_“Kinda hard to focus on little human shit like brunch and naptime when you’re running with the undead,”_

 

"I can slow to a brisk walk if that helps?" At this point, Alex had gone from trying to be helpful to trying to find the humor to cope with Dante driving himself to an early grave.

 

~~~

 

_“We didn’t lose them, I just… have a feeling. I think there’s a couple of options. Either they backed off when they spooked us, just laying low until we let our guard down, or…”_

 

"Have you ever wondered if you're one of those humans...what do they call them... 'sensitives' or something like that?" The vampire asked offhandedly. He'd never known Dante's gut feelings to be off when it came to things like this, though maybe that was just his apparently limited sense of self-preservation kicking in. "Not like mediums or psychics, but like humans who get sick and call out of work the same day a disgruntled coworker walks in with a sawed-off shotgun."

 

_“...or we’re doing exactly what they want us to already. Maybe they wanted to drive us into the city for some reason, get us somewhere they have the advantage.”_

 

"That's plausible," it made sense, in a way, it's what Alex would have done if he were herding someone into a trap. "I'd think the main advantage in the city, hypothetically speaking, is the sheer number of people. It's the perfect camouflage."

 

It had come up once or twice, that part of the reason Alex wasn't fond of hunting in the city, was because the number of people and therefore things like noise, smells, and sights tended to overload him a bit. As keen as his senses were, being in a bustling, crowded metropolis rendered them almost useless. Anyone, or anything, could theoretically be tracking them and Alex could potentially be none the wiser. Another issue, he couldn't exactly start ripping throats out with his teeth with swarms of witnesses if a threat did present itself.

 

"We'd just have to be more aware of our surroundings I suppose," he concluded, not feeling any better about the situation.

 

_“Maybe we find leads here, maybe we don’t. At the very least we can set ourselves up with gear and some cash, be prepared. Waiting for an attack seems like a shit plan, but unless we find some clues about what we’re up against…”_

 

"Preparation is the best we can do for now," the vampire sighed, knowing this was all less than ideal, but they'd been in bad positions before, just not one where it felt as if the walls were closing in from all sides. "I was serious about finding allies, we can't hope to handle whatever's coming by ourselves, and I think whoever is coming after us expects us to be going at it alone."

 

Dante dipped into the first gas station they came across to buy a pair of disposable phones, which took care of their most pressing need. He snagged more cigarettes, a couple of energy drinks, and a snickers bar on the way out, and if a few wallets disappeared while he happened to be in the store, well… nobody was any the wiser. Back in the car he dumped the pilfered wallets on the floorboard and tore into the candy bar like he hadn’t eaten in days.

 

~~~

 

While Dante went inside the gas station, Alex surveyed their surroundings. They were in a decent neighborhood, far from trashy and probably as safe as anyone could get. By the time Dante got back, Alex was wondering just how he was going to hunt so far from any reasonably sized forests. He was still running strong on the blood of Mr. Sunglass-wearing-douche, but that would only last a night or two before he needed more.

 

_“Wanna bite? Who knows, you might like it.”_

 

With his thoughts on how he was going to feed, Alex's eyes briefly settled on Dante's jugular. The sound of his partner's steady heartbeat and the warmth radiating from him serving as both a comfort and a curse. A rush of shame coursed through the vampire immediately and he quickly focused on the half-eaten bar of chocolate in front of him.

 

"No thanks," Alex replied, trying to think of anything to say to feel a little less flustered. "It smells like sugar and preservatives, by the way, absolutely no nutritional value, you might as well be eating out of the garbage."

 

He spent the next few minutes powering on their phones and getting them setup, programming each other’s numbers into the pixelated flip screens. He tossed one to Alex before focusing in on their next task: finding a place to shop.

 

Starting up the car, Alex waited for Dante to decide where to head next. He caught the phone tossed to him easily enough, holding it and couldn't help but be glad they were flip phones and not the newer rectangular bits of glass everyone else carried around. It wasn't even that he was old and didn't understand Twitchat or whatever. The main issue was his fingers were always too cold to work on the screen and his gloves added a layer of frustration as they didn't have the right padding.

 

_“We can probably skip Big and Tall,"_

 

"We'd look like a pair of kids playing dress up," Alex muttered, dryly.

 

_“There’s a mall up ahead. Figure we can always load up one of these on some new kicks.”_

 

"So, we should probably make an effort to blend in," the vampire commented, driving them to the mall Dante indicated. "By that I mean the rugged, outdoorsman look might stand out here and we really don't need to stand out with people and things coming after us." Alex sounded regretful as he spoke as if he were pulling his own teeth, knowing this just meant a lot of modern fashion. "Demons, demons must have been the ones to invent skinny jeans," the vampire suddenly commented, pulling into a parking spot outside of the mall.

 

~

 

_"Have you ever wondered if you're one of those humans...what do they call them... 'sensitives' or something like that?"_

 

The thought gave Dante pause and he glanced sideways at his partner, eyebrows raised. His first instinct was to brush it off as a ridiculous idea. But hearing it out loud seemed to shake something loose in his brain, like an old memory coming back to light after being forgotten for too long.

 

“Guess I never thought about it,” the hunter mumbled, inexplicably self-conscious about the theory, “feel like the last thing I need is some extra mumbo-jumbo complicating my life…” The idea was enough to make him ill. It just seemed like too much to wrap his head around. “Trust me, I’m nothing special.”

 

Dante had always firmly believed that to be true, knowing that if he hadn’t been raised like a hunter he would have no special skills or talents to speak of. It had always been a sobering thought. He hadn’t had any choice in learning how to fight or to kill, and he knew deep down that it wasn’t something he enjoyed. It was simply a necessity. It was survival. And before he knew it was in his twenties and he didn’t know how to do anything else, and like a song stuck on loop he simply kept on playing.

 

“Anyways, if I did have some kinda sixth sense or whatever, I feel like it would have been pretty useful, a long time before now,” Dante shook his head, draining the last of his to-go coffee.

 

_"I'd think the main advantage in the city, hypothetically speaking, is the sheer number of people. It's the perfect camouflage."_

 

“Yeah well. Let’s hope we can get lost.” Dante didn’t have much faith in the notion, but it was nice to indulge in the hope that the universe might occasionally smile on them. So far they’d had no such luck. “We’ve gotta catch a break at some point, right? Statistically speaking we’re way overdue to cash in our chips.”

 

The hunter knew neither of them were exactly fond of bustling metropolitan hubs like New York--Alex probably for more legitimate reasons than Dante--but here they were. Once again he experienced the unnerving feeling of being herded into a trap like a sheep to the slaughter. It was as if every other door was closing around them, leaving them only one path, one option. What waited for them beyond that door was anyone’s guess.

 

_"No thanks... It smells like sugar and preservatives, by the way, absolutely no nutritional value, you might as well be eating out of the garbage."_

 

Dante didn’t miss the subtle change in Alex’s demeanor, and his mind quickly cycled through all the possible causes. He stared down at the half-eaten candy bar and took another large bite. There were times when he felt like he could read Alex like a book, and times, like now, when he would have killed to know what was going on in his partner’s head. He had guesses, as he always did, but that’s all they were. Shots in the dark.

 

“I like my sugar garbage,” he shrugged defiantly around the chewy caramel, “it’s like my only joy in life. Besides your smiling face in the morning, of course.” It was a half-hearted attempt to guide them back into lighter territory, maybe dispel the heaviness that had fallen back over their shoulders like a blanket in the face of reality. Besides that, it was the honest truth.

 

_"So, we should probably make an effort to blend in… By that I mean the rugged, outdoorsman look might stand out here and we really don't need to stand out with people and things coming after us."_

 

Dante took stock of his current outfit with a grimace. “I can’t say I’m gonna miss the lumberjack vibe.” He thought about it, not sure what exactly he would wear if not for the tried and true combo of practical jeans and t-shirts. He’d never exactly had occasion to find out, although he’d managed to express himself in minimal ways through tattoos and his worn jacket, possibly the one thing he’d never seen as disposable. He tucked the sparse cash and two promising-looking credit cards into his pockets as they parked.

 

_"Demons, demons must have been the ones to invent skinny jeans..."_

 

“Au contraire Mr. Stoker, I have no complaints whatsoever against skinny jeans,” Dante grinned as he stepped out of the car and shut the door, “I think they’re god’s gift to man in the 21st century.” He was primarily thinking of a certain someone in those jeans, but Alex didn’t have to know that.

 

Dante walked side-by-side with his partner through the parking lot towards the mall entrance, his mind drifting back to thoughts of Nikolai and whatever he might be planning for the two of them. As confusing as that line of thinking was, it was easier than digging into the threats coming from his own side of the fork in the road, his own past. Besides, he figured an ancient vampire set on vengeance was a far bigger threat to them than any humans could be.

 

“Okay then,” the hunter rubbed his hands together as they stepped through the massive double-doors into the crowded mall, “time for a makeover. Where do you wanna start?”

 

~

 

_“Guess I never thought about it, feel like the last thing I need is some extra mumbo-jumbo complicating my life…Trust me, I’m nothing special.”_

 

“I don’t really believe that,” Alex said, his comment aimed more at the idea that Dante wasn’t special.

 

Out of every human he’d ever met after he’d died, Dante was easily one of the more interesting ones. Stubborn, difficult, moody, and hot-headed, as he was, those weren’t his only qualities. Dante did a good job of hiding it, but he was smarter than he looked and Alex had no doubt that if he hadn’t been a hunter, he would have been amazing at whatever he did anyway.

 

“Has anyone ever told you you’re ‘nothing special?’” Alex asked suddenly, trying not to frown. “Because they’re either stupid or lying and you’d be an idiot to believe it.”

 

_“Anyways, if I did have some kinda sixth sense or whatever, I feel like it would have been pretty useful, a long time before now,”_

 

“But hasn’t it been?” Alex murmured softly, almost to himself.

 

The vampire felt his brows furrow together as he thought back to every near miss and near death experience they’d both had. Vampire or not, he wasn’t invincible and there were things that should have ended them, but didn’t. It hadn’t taken Alex long to adjust, to accept Dante’s instincts over his own at times. Perhaps it was simply because Dante was raised a hunter, maybe that was all, just a keen sense of danger that came with hunting dangerous creatures.

 

_“Yeah well. Let’s hope we can get lost. We’ve gotta catch a break at some point, right? Statistically speaking we’re way overdue to cash in our chips.”_

 

While the city could be a perfect hiding place for them, it also meant anyone or anything could be hiding in plain sight and they’d be none the wiser. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, but there was the off chance they could use it in their favor while licking their wounds and resupplying. Alex still wasn’t sure how long Dante had planned on them staying in New York, though he suspected it’d be however long they needed to be here. Sometimes they didn’t get to chose where and when they went somewhere, a lot of the times it was out of necessity, or them chasing a lead across the country.

 

_“I like my sugar garbage, it’s like my only joy in life. Besides your smiling face in the morning, of course.”_

 

Once again, Alex was extremely glad he couldn’t blush. He kept his face carefully blank, not wanting his partner to know the effect the hunter was having on him. It was stupid, Alex was sure, to feel this giddy over simple comments that could have just been more banter. Still, the idea that maybe, just maybe, Dante wasn’t joking about his joys in life consisting of sugar garbage and Alex himself was enough to leave him just a little flustered.

 

“I’m flattered,” Alex said in a tone that was meant to be joking, hoping to keep up with the lighter tone and banter, “that I’m on the same level as sugar garbage.”

 

_“I can’t say I’m gonna miss the lumberjack vibe.”_

 

“I don’t know,” Alex mused out loud, “some people _like_ the rugged look, it’d just stand out way too much here.”

 

Of course, Alex meant he liked the look on Dante, but he wasn’t about to be that obvious. Then again, he liked any look on Dante, but lately the vampire wasn’t feeling the bruised, bloodied, torn up look his partner had been sporting.

 

_“Au contraire Mr. Stoker, I have no complaints whatsoever against skinny jeans. I think they’re god’s gift to man in the 21st century.”_

 

Two things came to mind immediately. Dante apparently liked skinny jeans, which Alex decided he could interpret in two ways. The most obvious way, in Alex’s mind and based on the phrasing, was Dante liked people in skinny jeans. Of course, the vampire was sure that meant other people because Alex rarely wore them and because his attempts at flirting were ignored, constantly. The second way was that maybe liked wearing them himself, though Alex was doubtful about that one, but was going to milk it for what it was worth.

 

“Oh, so you won’t mind wearing them?” Alex asked, “because if I have to wear them to blend in, I’m not doing it alone.”

 

_“Okay then, time for a makeover. Where do you wanna start?”_

 

The moment they stepped into the mall, Alex was overwhelmed. The place wasn’t the largest mall he’d ever been in, nor was it the most crowded at this hour. The problem right now was the simple fact that he didn’t have the first idea where to start or how to create a ‘Modern Look™’ to blend in here. Most of the time, he wore what he’d managed to snag off a clothes line, out of an unattended dryer, or from a suitcase that no one was keeping an eye on. Up until now, his ‘fashion’ choices were a mix of luck and wearing whatever Dante happened to have laying around.

 

“My sense of fashion is stuck back in the era of suspenders,” Alex said finally, giving Dante a subtly sheepish look. “I can’t remember the last time I picked clothing for the sake of fashion. It might have been back in the 30s, maybe. If you had a choice, what would you wear?”

 

~

 

_“I don’t really believe that… Has anyone ever told you you’re ‘nothing special? Because they’re either stupid or lying and you’d be an idiot to believe it.”_

 

Dante felt like he’d been punched in the chest, his breath hitching a little bit at the unexpected way those words hit him. It wasn’t like he’d had an over-abundance of encouraging words in his life as it was, but it somehow meant so much more from Alex, whose opinion he valued above all others. Definitely not a healthy reaction, but one he was completely powerless over.

 

The hunter blinked rapidly, making a point of not looking over at his partner as he tried to ride out the wave of unexpected and too-strong emotions. It was one of those moments when he was positive that Alex had no clue the kind of sway he held over Dante. Or maybe he just wasn’t used to anyone giving a shit, and he projected that in unhealthy ways onto the only person close to him.

 

“Yeah well,” Dante had to pause to clear his throat, trying to keep it light, “maybe I kinda glazed over the part where I was pretty much a cursed, godless bastard with half the blood and half the talent of every other hunter on the planet,” he wasn’t prepared to feel the shame that accompanied that admission. He’d never had the good sense to be ashamed of it before, just angry. Then again, this was Alex. “I guess there’s no way you could know this, but as far as hunters go I’m not exactly at the top of the food chain.”

 

“But thanks for the vote of confidence,” he faked a wide smile at the vampire, hoping they could breeze past the topic altogether. From Alex’s tone, Dante doubted he really wanted to hear about the many uncomplimentary things the hunter had been told about himself from a young age, ' _nothing special_ ' being the very least of them.

 

_“But hasn’t it been?”_

 

“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my ruptured fucking eardrum,” Dante retorted sarcastically, tapping his temple, “you’d think if I had some kinda magical intuition I wouldn’t be constantly getting my ass handed to me...” Even as he said it, the hunter had his doubts. After all, most of those ass-kickings were slightly preferable to a horribly painful death, which was usually the barely-avoided alternative.

 

_“I’m flattered that I’m on the same level as sugar garbage.”_

 

Dante grinned, loving the awkward way Alex responded to his purposefully off-handed compliments, endearing as ever. “Don’t worry, on a good day I’d even rank you a notch above a Snickers bar,” he couldn’t resist pushing that extra millimeter past what was good for him, “and that’s about the highest praise I can give.”

 

_“Oh, so you won’t mind wearing them? Because if I have to wear them to blend in, I’m not doing it alone.”_

 

“You know me, I never back down from a challenge,” the hunter agreed immediately. “It’s time to squeeze into some spray-ons, Sugar Garbage.”

 

_“My sense of fashion is stuck back in the era of suspenders… I can’t remember the last time I picked clothing for the sake of fashion. It might have been back in the 30s, maybe. If you had a choice, what would you wear?”_

 

Dante shook out his shoulders, chuckling gleefully, “Oh, Alex, we’re gonna drag you kicking and screaming into the modern world. Come on,” he grabbed the vampire’s arm, pulling him into the nearest Express. He knew he shouldn’t be enjoying their situation this much, but it was a rare opportunity to indulge some recurrent fantasies and he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to take full advantage of that.

 

In the space of about twenty minutes the hunter had picked out a healthy selection of t-shirts, jackets, and the most scandalous skin-tight jeans he figured he could convince the vampire to try on. The hunter ushered Alex into the dressing rooms and shoved the selected items into his hands.

 

“Okay just humor me,” he instructed in his best no-nonsense tone, “if it fits you’ve gotta show me. Trust me, this is what all the kids are wearing these days.”

 

Without further ado Dante plopped down into a hard plastic chair across from the dressing rooms to wait, waving at Alex to get a move on. If he was being a little selfish with his clothing choices for his partner, he didn’t exactly feel bad about it.

 

~

 

It wasn’t difficult to hear the way Dante’s heart and breathing reacted to Alex’s words. Followed by Dante’s reaction after, Alex was worried for a moment he might have actually upset his partner. Glancing over, Alex watched as Dante seemed to deliberately be looking away from him. From what he’d heard about Dante’s parent situation and the brotherhood, he suspected his partner probably wasn’t used to hearing much praise.

 

_“Yeah well, maybe I kinda glazed over the part where I was pretty much a cursed, godless bastard with half the blood and half the talent of every other hunter on the planet. I guess there’s no way you could know this, but as far as hunters go I’m not exactly at the top of the food chain.”_

 

Dante’s words only seemed to confirm Alex’s suspicions about where his partner would have gotten the dumb idea that he wasn’t anything special. As much as Alex wanted to argue and refute it, he didn’t want to keep pressing on an issue that might have been too sensitive for Dante to handle right now. Staring ahead, Alex couldn’t help but imagine ripping several throats out, feeling even less pity for the hunter whose corpse he punted into a tree.

 

“This might come as a complete and total surprise,” Alex said dryly, “but I don’t really hold a high opinion of what the Bible-thumping wackos trying to kill us think.”

 

_“But thanks for the vote of confidence,”_

 

Alex gave Dante a sidelong glance, the look probably said more than any words could have. Right now the vampire was reminded of their earlier conversation, about being more than willing to listen if his partner needed it. Of course, that conversation ended much like this one.

 

***

 

_“Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of my ruptured fucking eardrum, you’d think if I had some kinda magical intuition I wouldn’t be constantly getting my ass handed to me...”_

 

“I mean,” Alex glanced over at Dante, feeling his lips quirk into the ghost of a smile. “From the looks and sounds of what happened, you’re lucky the bullet missed your face. Sorry, but your magical intuition probably handed you your ass so you could save both of ours.”

 

***

 

_“Don’t worry, on a good day I’d even rank you a notch above a Snickers bar, and that’s about the highest praise I can give.”_

 

Alex just shook his head, unable to believe the direction this conversation had taken, then again, this was Dante. He wasn’t sure how he felt being compared to candy, which in his opinion was still sugar garbage. Then again his partner was having fun with it and if this was what it took to lighten things up, he’d tolerate being compared to preservative and sugar-laden garbage.

 

_“You know me, I never back down from a challenge, It’s time to squeeze into some spray-ons, Sugar Garbage.”_

 

While walking into the mall, Alex had to pause momentarily, a look of disbelief on his face. A moment later disbelief gave way to indignation as Alex gave Dante an unimpressed frown, bordering on a scowl.

 

“Did you really just call me ‘Sugar Garbage,’” he said, despite having clearly heard his partner refer to him as such. “...The things I put up with...”

 

_“Oh, Alex, we’re gonna drag you kicking and screaming into the modern world. Come on,”_

 

Alex liked to think few things scared him. Nikolai scared him, the fear of losing Dante scared him, but right then he wondered if he should be terrified at the way his partner was chuckling. Before the kicking and screaming could commence, his partner had him by the arm and was tugging him off to be presumably tortured with too tight pants.

 

While Dante picked out a decent variety of articles of clothing, and pairs of dreaded skinny jeans, he only looked on, not really understanding some of the preferences of kids these days. To be fair though, he noted that the men’s section was a lot less absurd looking than what the women had to deal with when buying clothing.

 

“So, can you run this by me again?” Alex asked as they headed towards the dressing rooms. “Why do they make fake pockets on women’s pants? Why not just make actual pockets if they’re putting in the effort to sew fake ones on? I mean, they put real pockets on all our clothing...”

 

If Alex was thankful for anything right then, it was for the fact that all the jeans and jackets Dante handed him had functional pockets on them.

 

_“Okay just humor me, if it fits you’ve gotta show me. Trust me, this is what all the kids are wearing these days.”_

 

Alex gave a long-suffering sigh, halfway convinced this was another prank in which Dante took advantage of his lack of knowledge of the modern world. Still, the piles of clothing he’d been handed didn’t look bad exactly, though the jeans were a bit too tight in his opinion. Slipping out of his jeans, jacket, and t-shirt, Alex set his holstered daggers down, then picked up a set of jeans.

 

“Wait, these aren’t even denim,” the vampire commented, loud enough for Dante to hear. Reading the label of one of the pairs Dante had shoved into his arms, he was only left with further questions. “What is a ‘jegging’ exactly? ...These things are practically tights.”

 

With a huff, Alex separated the ‘jegging’ things out and was left with a pile of regular skinny jeans. After a moment, he picked up a dark blue set and started pulling them on. Thankfully, they fit, though he wasn’t fond of how clingy the material was compared to the bootcut jeans he’d had on most hunts. Digging around the shirt pile, Alex picked a deep burgundy t-shirt and slipped it on, it brought out his eyes a bit, which wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but he’d usually opted not to draw attention to them. With a sigh, Alex picked up one of the jackets, a charcoal colored thing that felt like thick canvas. Slipping the jacket on, he decided he was presentable enough. Leaving his boots off, he stepped out, hands on his hips and looking like he wasn’t sure why he had to show Dante.

 

“Okay, so,” Alex gave what might have been a twirl, but it was much too fast for human eyes to really register. “This isn’t too ridiculous looking, is it? God, people are probably going to stare. Also, I’m not sure what to do about shoes.”

 

While Alex looked out of his element and was convinced he was somehow the butt of a joke right now, he probably wasn’t wrong about people staring. Granted, they’d probably be staring for completely different reasons than Alex thought they’d be staring. The entire time Alex had been out of the dressing room, he hadn’t really looked at Dante, instead focusing his eyes on random spots on the walls or floor. After a moment he sighed, then looked directly at Dante to try to gauge a reaction. At the same time his eyes said: ‘I can’t believe you’re making me, your Sugar Garbage, try on skinny jeans.’

 

~

 

“So, can you run this by me again? Why do they make fake pockets on women’s pants? Why not just make actual pockets if they’re putting in the effort to sew fake ones on? I mean, they put real pockets on all our clothing...”

 

“That is… a fantastic question, actually,” Dante shrugged when he couldn’t immediately come up with an answer, “I’m guessing it has something to do with male chauvinism, but then again I haven’t exactly had a lot of female friends through my life to ask about that shit.”

 

That was code for a grand total of zero that he could recall. The church hadn’t had any female members, and even the priests that lived outside of the walls, in church-sanctioned marriages with women of pure bloodlines, hadn’t exactly brought their wives or families around the place.

 

“Wait, these aren’t even denim...What is a ‘jegging’ exactly? ...These things are practically tights.”

 

“Jegging,” Dante explained out loud from his side of the dressing room door, “it’s like if jeans and leggings had a baby. Guess I couldn’t sneak those past you, huh?” He hadn’t really expected to, but it was still fun to watch his partner squirm. Figuratively speaking of course. He waited patiently for the vampire to come out, listening to the soft rustle of fabric.

 

_“Okay, so, This isn’t too ridiculous looking, is it? God, people are probably going to stare. Also, I’m not sure what to do about shoes.”_

 

Dante nearly choked when he caught sight of Alex, but managed to keep his composure hanging by a thread. He was already hyper-aware of his attraction to the vampire even when they were both dressed like homeless vagrants, but this was a new monster altogether.

 

“No,” he managed to get out, covering his mouth with his fist to hide his reaction, “not ridiculous looking at all. But I will say you’re right, people are definitely going to stare. Hell, I’m going to stare. You look like you stepped straight out of GQ, guess I’m gonna have to step up my game.”

 

Despite his fallback jokes, Dante couldn’t help staring admiringly. The hunter couldn’t even imagine how much of a scrub he probably looked like next to Alex, especially now, but he also couldn’t bring himself to care. He smiled encouragingly when the vampire finally met his eyes, unwilling to fall for the kicked-puppy look.

 

“If you really don’t like it, I’m not gonna twist your arm,” Dante provided the easy out, deciding to take a bit of mercy on the clearly-uncomfortable vampire. “But if you’re at all interested in my take, I think the whole ensemble is right on the money.”

 

That was putting it pretty lightly, but Dante couldn’t exactly admit he’d probably be thinking about those jeans in the shower lately. Only it wasn’t really the jeans or the t-shirt or the clothes at all. It was the way Alex’s eyes seemed to pick up the light, and the line of his shoulders. It was everything Dante shouldn’t be fixated on, and everything he became more obsessed with the harder he tried to ignore.

 

“If you find something you do like we can go grab some shoes,” Dante was trying not to be pushy, knowing it wouldn’t do either of them any favors, “there’s a DSW across the way.” Knowing his own sizes, Dante was sure he could snag a few items for himself on the way out as well.

 

~

 

_“That is… a fantastic question, actually, I’m guessing it has something to do with male chauvinism, but then again I haven’t exactly had a lot of female friends through my life to ask about that shit.”_

 

“...Do you want female friends?” Alex asked through the door. He wasn’t entirely sure himself if he was asking if Dante wanted friends who happened to be female or if ‘female friends’ might hold a different connotation here.

 

_“Jegging, it’s like if jeans and leggings had a baby. Guess I couldn’t sneak those past you, huh?”_

 

“This is definitely the work of demons,” Alex called back, giving the jeggings a suspicious look,“‘ _if jeans and leggings had a baby_ ’ has demons written all over it.”

 

_“No, not ridiculous looking at all. But I will say you’re right, people are definitely going to stare. Hell, I’m going to stare. You look like you stepped straight out of GQ, guess I’m gonna have to step up my game.”_

 

If Alex had reservations of how he looked in this particular set of clothing, they went out the window the moment he looked up to meet eyes with Dante. The hunter was staring, of course, but it was the way he smiled and the look in his grey eyes that was reassuring. The vampire was sure if this was some sort of prank or joke or whatever the hunter would have been giving him a much different expression, or worse, laughing.

 

“I don’t know what a GQ is,” Alex breathed out, after a moment of not saying anything.

 

_“If you really don’t like it, I’m not gonna twist your arm. But if you’re at all interested in my take, I think the whole ensemble is right on the money.”_

 

The fact that Alex couldn’t blush was a small mercy in that moment, but now he was just unsure of what to do. Dante liked skinny jeans, he seemed to like them on other people at least. Alex, meanwhile, despised how they clung to him like a second skin and left very little to the imagination. Still, the material had a decent amount of give to it, so it was unlikely to limit his range of movement. His main concern had and probably always would be, if he could move freely enough during a fight. Weighing the pros and cons, Alex realized the only real issue he took was they were just so different from what he was used to wearing.

 

“I don’t hate it, exactly,” Alex replied, giving his shoulders a small shrug. “And our goal is to blend in and if everyone’s dressing like this now it’s just going to help with the whole urban camouflage thing we’re going for.”

 

_“If you find something you do like we can go grab some shoes, there’s a DSW across the way.”_

Alex bit his lower lip, thinking for a long moment. He suspected his sizing would be consistent and there was really no need to try on the rest, unless he was curious how the color options looked. Then again, he supposed it was possible to mix and match it all as needed. Plus, he suspected everything Dante grabbed — aside from the jeggings — were things that the hunter liked visually and Alex was okay with wearing, clinginess aside.

 

“I think I can live with it all,” he admitted after a moment, gesturing back o the dressing room and the stack of clothing Dante had shoved into his arms earlier. “But I’m taking a hard pass on the jeggings and I’m grabbing a pair of bootcut jeans on the way out.”

 

Turning around, Alex headed back inside to begin stripping out of the clothes he tried on. It wasn’t much longer until he had his old outfit on, daggers carefully concealed, and stepped out of the dressing room with the ‘yes’ pile in his arms.

 

“Are you going to try anything on?” Alex asked suddenly, wondering if he was going to be the only one subjected to modeling his options. “And I take it a DSW is a shoe store?”

 

~

 

_“...Do you want female friends?”_

 

“Not my speed,” Dante quipped plainly and decided to leave it at that, recognizing the implied question for what it was. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been with women before. His imminent-death fueled teenage rampage after leaving the church had been filled with… experimentation, to put it lightly. Trying things--and people--he’d never been able to under the priests’ thumb had really only confirmed what he already knew. He had a type, and it wasn’t women.

 

Relationships in general weren’t something that had a place in his life, like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole. Sex, on the other hand, was something different. It was like eating or taking a shower, a basic necessity to indulge in when he had time. At least, that’s how he’d always thought of it. Lately his head had been so mixed up, his emotions firing off like an electrical storm, and he didn’t even know for sure what he believed now.

 

_“I don’t know what a GQ is.”_

 

“It’s a tall drink of water,” Dante tipped his head with a smile, “that’s all you really need to know.”

 

_“I think I can live with it all… But I’m taking a hard pass on the jeggings and I’m grabbing a pair of bootcut jeans on the way out.”_

 

“All of it?” Dante was pleasantly surprised, not sure why he’d expected more of a fight. “Great. Guess if hunting doesn’t pan out for me I already have a new gig lined up as a personal stylist.”

 

_“Are you going to try anything on? And I take it a DSW is a shoe store?”_

 

“It is a shoe store,” the hunter confirmed, eyeing the pile of clothing with a smile. “Filled with shoes from this century only, hate to disappoint.”

 

He led the way out of the dressing rooms, stopping by the menswear racks to pick out a few items for himself. “Eh, I don’t really need to try shit on,” he picked up a loudly-patterned button-up splattered with paisley. “Unless you’re dying to see me in this little number...” He undid the top two buttons and held it up to his chest with a suggestively raised eyebrow. “Irresistible, eh?”

 

Tucking the shirt back into the row, Dante moved down to a rack with some more neutral colors, running his thumb over the soft fabric. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to splurge a little, since they were trying to fit in and all. Still, it felt a little selfish. He wasn’t sure he’d ever owned anything remotely nice, or anything not torn and stained for that matter. He picked out a deep blue one and of course, black, and hung them over his arm.

 

“Even if we’re gonna be running for our lives from everything that’s ever wanted us dead,” Dante thought out loud, knowing that was a dauntingly long list, “at least this time we’re gonna be doing it in style.”

 

As promised, Dante also selected a few pairs of jeans that were definitely going to be mobility-limiting, but they at least had some stretch to them. If he was being completely honest he was enjoying the shopping trip a little more than he thought he would, and not just because he got to watch Alex walking around looking even more like a male model than usual. It reminded him of the few brief, blissfully unburdened at the arcade. It felt normal. It felt like forgetting, for a few minutes, that they spent their days sleeping and their nights covered in blood and dirt. He waited for Alex to pick out anything else he might want and then headed to the register, figuring he could change in a bathroom somewhere before they got back on the road.

 

A mister Robert Kingsley Junior, according to the swiped credit card, was kind enough to buy them a hefty new wardrobe by the time they walked out of the store. Dante was always pleasantly surprised how long it took rich guys to realize their wallet was missing. Carrying their bags, Dante led the way across the bustling hallway to the shoe store.

 

“Okay then Tyson Beckford,” Dante gestured to the racks stretching in every direction, “what’s your flavor? I’ve got a few suggestions of course, but options are wide open.” He spotted a display of old school Vans and darted over, picking up a pair admiringly. “Dibs,” he quickly held up a finger, “I always wanted a pair of these…”

 

~

 

_“Not my speed,”_

 

Alex wasn’t sure why, but this bit of information gave him some glimmer of hope. They’d never talked much about relationships, sex, or the history associated with those things. So far, Alex had only hinted at his relationship with Vincent, but that was the extent of what he was willing or ready to give as far as information on that subject matter.

 

From Alex’s point of view, up until now Dante had only ever seemed interested in keeping things platonic between them, which killed that little glimmer of hope. A small, barely present insecure part of Alex wondered if there was something wrong with him, something that was keeping him from being an option. The thought had crossed his mind that Dante didn’t want to ruin their existing partnership, so he’d never questioned it. Another thought he’d had from time to time was maybe Dante wasn’t interested because Alex was a vampire.

 

_“All of it? Great. Guess if hunting doesn’t pan out for me I already have a new gig lined up as a personal stylist.”_

 

“Unfortunately all of it,” Alex conceded, “I suppose now is as good a time as any to stockpile clothing, even if it’s something I normally wouldn’t wear.”

 

Dante seemed to react positively to the wardrobe change, or at least the bit of it Alex had modeled for him. Given what he now knew about which team Dante was playing for, it seemed more of a matter of making himself seem more like a viable option. As it was, Alex didn’t have the first idea what it was that Dante liked when it came to members of the same sex, simply because they’d never talked about it before. It wasn’t that Alex was going to change himself to be whatever Dante wanted. Instead, he hoped maybe appealing to Dante’s preferences might make him a little more response to the occasional pass he made at the hunter.

 

_“It is a shoe store. Filled with shoes from this century only, hate to disappoint.”_

 

“Do you mean to tell me they don’t have anything from the 80s or 90s? I’m not sure if I’m ready to let go of the styles of the 50s and 60s either,” Alex quipped, knowing ‘this century’ only encompassed the last nineteen years. “I don’t know, I’m pretty bummed Chuck Taylors aren’t sold at this DSW place, maybe we should skip it,” he continued in a dry tone.

_“Eh, I don’t really need to try shit on. Unless you’re dying to see me in this little number...Irresistible, eh?”_

 

“If you buy it, I’m sure I’ll see you in it regardless,” Alex commented, trying to keep how flustered he was under wraps, which was hard with his partner giving him a suggestively raised eyebrow. “And I’m already dead, technically speaking.”

 

As Dante stuck the obnoxious looking shirt back, Alex was a little relieved to see his partner going for something more neutral. The goal here was to blend in, not look like a walking eyesore, though it was doubtful Alex walking around in skinny jeans was helping them fly under the radar. When Dante picked through the shirts, Alex noted how he ran his thumb over the fabric and seemed to be taking his time, though the vampire couldn’t figure out why. Earlier when he’d been picking out Alex’s things, it was anything that caught the hunter’s attention, now there seemed to be hesitance.

 

_“Even if we’re gonna be running for our lives from everything that’s ever wanted us dead. At least this time we’re gonna be doing it in style.”_

 

“At least we won’t die looking like a pair of railroad tramps,” the vampire added, taking a moment to grab a few dark blue and black jeans that would leave room for movement and the boots he normally wore while in the wilderness. “And if we come out on top, we’re still doing it in what passes for ‘style’ in this decade.”

 

On their way to the register, Alex took a moment to snag a few miscellaneous items like socks, boxers, and even a decent looking wallet to replace the one he lost over a week ago. By the time all of their things were stacked on the counter, Alex reached over and grabbed a store gift card and slapped it on top, knowing this wouldn’t be the last time they’d be in dire need of clothes. With their items purchased, it seemed the next stop was the shoe store Dante had mentioned.

 

_“Okay then Tyson Beckford,”_

 

“You know I’m not getting the reference,” Alex said plainly, eyeing the store as they approached it.

 

_“What’s your flavor? I’ve got a few suggestions of course, but options are wide open.”_

 

“Usually blood,” the vampire deadpanned, before getting serious. “I’m partial to functionality,” he said not even sure if he’d have a preference, though he was wide open to suggestions. “So no stilettos, please.”

 

_“Dibs, I always wanted a pair of these…”_

 

“...You know you can even get several pairs of those, right?” Alex commented, knowing full well they’d probably be fine with the two credit cards they had. “I do think we should restock on the weatherproofing sealant stuff, actually, regardless of which shoes we get, it’s nice not getting your feet wet.”

 

While they talked, a few things caught Alex’s eye. On the Vans display there were a few shoes that looked more like modernized hiking boots, something of a halfway point between the boots Alex always wore and the shoe Dante had picked out. Reaching out, he picked it up and examined it, noting it was a bit pricey, but then shoes tended to be that way. There were a few other things, the Chuck Taylors Alex had made reference to were on shelves featuring their newer styles along with the classics. The last thing that had caught Alex’s attention were slightly more olden timey shoes, though they seemed aimed more at hipsters.

 

“If we have the funds, we could even buy spare boots in case something happens to our old ones,” the vampire commented, glancing up from the shoe he’d been inspecting at Dante. “Or laces, extra laces are nice,” he added, thinking of the worst case scenarios for later.

 

~

 

_“Unfortunately all of it… I suppose now is as good a time as any to stockpile clothing, even if it’s something I normally wouldn’t wear.”_

 

Dante couldn’t deny that the idea of stocking up was pretty appealing. They probably managed to update their wardrobe about once a year, and regularly found themselves running low in between trips with the rate they tore through things. Especially when they had the luxury of a black card and an entire mall to choose from, it gave their little shopping spree a practical spin. And if Dante was mentally mixing business with a little pleasure, well, who could blame him. Those opportunities were few and far between.

 

_“Do you mean to tell me they don’t have anything from the 80s or 90s? I’m not sure if I’m ready to let go of the styles of the 50s and 60s either.. I don’t know, I’m pretty bummed Chuck Taylors aren’t sold at this DSW place, maybe we should skip it.”_

 

“Ha ha, he’s got jokes,” Dante drawled as he rolled his eyes, secretly glad that Alex seemed a little more enthusiastic about shoe shopping than he was for skinny jeans. “If it’s Cons you’re after, I guarantee they sell ‘em somewhere in this zoo.”

 

Picking out clothes for Alex had been so much easier than picking out clothes for himself. It was easy to think the vampire deserved new clothes, new shoes, hell a damn Lamborghini. For himself, it was a war between the little kid in him that wanted a snarky t-shirt and a snapback, and the hunter in him that screamed at him about how impractical those things were for his life.

 

Dante smiled fondly as he watched his partner look through the shoes, something softening in his eyes. It was these in-between moments that stood out to him, the space between breaths. Alex in a crowded Designer Shoe Warehouse, frowning at a price tag. Alex splayed out on a shitty hotel room comforter, as out of place as a Greek god in a dollar store. Alex flicking the radio dial to a classic rock station he knew his partner liked. Thinking of all these perfect moments in a heartbeat, the hunter allowed himself only a moment to stare undetected, but couldn’t risk more than that. He dragged his eyes away with effort, trying to blink himself back to his senses.

 

_“If we have the funds, we could even buy spare boots in case something happens to our old ones… Or laces, extra laces are nice.”_

 

Dante thought about for a moment and gave a shrug of agreement. “You’re right,” he finally said when he couldn’t think of a good reason to argue, “you know, we kinds deserve it right? Let’s go nuts. Boots, laces, backup-kicks, the whole nine yards.” He tucked the shoebox under his arm and gave it a fond pat. “Should we get a cart? Let’s get a cart.”

 

Darting off without waiting for an answer, Dante’s binge-shopping dreams were immediately crushed when the confused clerk told him this was an outlet mall and not a Walmart, so no sir we do not have shopping carts. Scowling, he left his single box of shoes at the register.

 

He returned to his partner with a sheepish grin. “Well no carts… not sure what kind of two-bit joint they’re running here. But they said we could pick shit out and leave it at the counter for when we’re ready.“

 

Sifting through the various pairs of Chuck Taylor’s Alex liked, some sequined and colorful, others plain, Dante fingered a pair of classic cut canvas in fire-engine red. Holding them up to inspect, he pursed his lips. “You know, I think these might have my name on them someday,” he said on a whim, “no time like retirement for a pop of color in the old monochrome wardrobe.” Setting them back on the shelf with a twinge of regret, knowing retirement was likely a pipe dream at best, he grabbed a box of black classics instead.

 

Dante could have spent all day sorting through the endless shoes with childlike fascination, but knowing they were on something of a timetable he narrowed his attention down to picking out a pair of black hiking boots that were more aesthetic than rugged and adding them to his pile at the counter with his first pair of Vans and some tennis shoes. Per Alex’s wise suggestion he also swiped a couple of extra pairs of shoelaces, but couldn’t find the waterproofing spray he used on most of their gear. He knew for a fact the can bouncing around somewhere in one of their duffel bags was nearly empty, so he made a mental note to grab more when they were somewhere a little more practical.

 

“I’m about to own more pairs of shoes than I ever have in my entire life,” the hunter grinned stupidly at Alex as he slapped down the credit card. “This is awesome. It’s like we’re real people.”

 

~

 

_“Ha ha, he’s got jokes,”_

 

“I’m here all week,” Alex said, more than happy to leave skinny jean shopping and the dreaded jeggings behind them.

 

~~~

 

_“You’re right, you know, we kinds deserve it right? Let’s go nuts. Boots, laces, backup-kicks, the whole nine yards. Should we get a cart? Let’s get a cart.”_

 

While they had a credit card with an excessively high limit and a back up one as well, it seemed absurd to pass up the chance to stockpile what they could. Of course, this current shopping trip was a mix of business and pleasure, but then Alex didn’t see anything wrong with treating themselves just a little after everything they’d been through. It was just convenient that dressing nicely, fashionably even, was the best way to fade into the crowd here. Not to mention, it seemed as if Dante had grown up never having the chance to have nice things, or experience life the way normal people got to experience it.

 

Before Alex could point out he didn’t see any carts out in front when they’d walked in, Dante was off looking for a cart. Alex sighed a little, stacking his selections in a pile in his arms. So far he had the Vans he’d been examining, the tan colored leather shoes that had a more timeless feel to them, and a pair of deep burgundy converse sneakers in his pile. He had plans to go back and look at the boots they had, but was waiting for Dante to come back first.

 

_“Well no carts… not sure what kind of two-bit joint they’re running here. But they said we could pick shit out and leave it at the counter for when we’re ready.“_

 

“I mean, I could have told you that,” the vampire said with a quirked brow. “I think I could use a set of boots and...” thinking, Alex tried to come up with anything else they might need from this place. “For me I think that’s enough for shoes, most of this is to blend in here a little better.”

 

_“You know, I think these might have my name on them someday, no time like retirement for a pop of color in the old monochrome wardrobe.”_

 

“Someday,” Alex repeated in what he hoped was a reassuring tone, hoping retirement was a possibility for the hunter, though the vampire was doubtful he personally would ever have the luxury.

 

While Dante picked out a set of boots, Alex managed to scrounge up a set of dark mahogany colored boots. They were of a decent enough quality, though he was more concerned with whether he could fit a knife in them. With their supplied dwindling, he pondered maybe strengthening what he carried on himself. A pair of twin daggers, fangs, and preternatural speed and strength could only do so much. That was, however, a concern for later because he wasn’t in the mood to ruin their shopping trip by getting into talking about killing things.

 

_“I’m about to own more pairs of shoes than I ever have in my entire life. This is awesome. It’s like we’re real people.”_

 

“Well, that’s one way to look at it,” Alex replied, glad that Dante was in a much better mood after their shopping trip.

 

Alex couldn’t help but smile a little when Dante grinned at him. It was infectious and reminded Alex of how much fun they’d been having at that arcade before some douchebag in sunglasses ruined it for them. Casually, Alex grabbed a few gift cards, two at least, enough for another set of shoes later, and stuck them on top of the boxes. The credit card would eventually hit a limit or be turned off, so it only made sense to ensure they made the most of it.

 

As the clerk processed their order, Alex felt a jolt of primal fear up his spine, as if he’d been struck by lightning. Jerking around, almost too fast, he looked around frantically. All he saw was shelves of shoes and the window facing out into the mall hallways where people were passing by and occasionally glancing into the store at the displays. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he sniffed at the air, trying to be discreet, but also trying to catch the scent of anything that might be off.

 

Unfortunately, all he could smell was a mix of rubber, leather, people, sweat, food wafting from the food court down the hall and a slurry of everything else. It was the perfect environment to mask a scent, by lurking in a place overrun with strong odors. Glancing at his partner, Alex could do nothing to hide the look of worry in his eyes. What had happened felt closer to what he felt back in Maine, rather than that feeling of being watched at the arcade.

 

“We should go,” he said simply, grabbing the box filled bags, not wanting to waste a moment longer here, but knowing they couldn’t run forever. “Do you think it’ll be safe at Rafter’s?”

 

~

 

Dante felt more than saw the shift in his partner’s mood, turning to look at him. Seeing the tension and alarm immediately had him on high alert. His eyes darted to the entrance of the store, across the strange faces passing by. Nothing jumped out at him, but the hair on the back of his neck stood up in response to Alex’s alert.

 

“What is it,” he asked under his breath, still hunting futilely for a threat, “what did you see?” While his human eyes couldn’t pick up anything out of the ordinary, he knew Alex was able to see things he often wasn’t.

 

_“We should go… Do you think it’ll be safe at Rafter’s?”_

 

“Yeah,” Dante kept his eyes peeled as they left the store, bags in tow, “trust me when I say nothing’s getting into that place if they don’t want it to.”

 

Turning without knowing why, he looked over his shoulder, checking the teeming masses behind them. He caught fleeting glimpses of what his mind interpreted as slack features and glazed eyes on every face, but before he could focus the images were swept away into the crowd. Squinting, Dante turned his attention back to keeping quick pace with the vampire beside him. His skin was crawling, and he knew Alex had to be doubly spooked with the way he was moving.

 

“What the fuck,” Dante muttered under his breath as they finally hit the fresh air outside, “what was that?” He didn’t really need to ask, but saying it out loud felt somehow more grounding. He followed Alex to the car and studied the quiet parking lot as they threw their bags in the backseat.

 

“Getting real tired of all this creepy smoke-and-mirrors business,” the hunter grumbled, shutting the door forcefully as he climbed into the passenger seat. He was infinitely frustrated that they still had no idea what was stalking them. “I can’t believe I’m hoping for something to jump out and try to eat us, but that seems like a better option than whatever the hell this is.”

 

Knowing Alex was more than right, it was time to get to a safe zone, Dante yanked his oldest journal out of their luggage, the first one he’d started putting together after leaving the church so many years ago. He flipped through the dog-eared pages, thinking of all the things that weren’t recorded in those pages. While his records were strictly clinical, details of places and monsters he’d come across over time, he still had the memories of each one.

 

“Rockaway Park,” he tapped the entry, “do you know it? Rafter’s place doesn’t look like much from the street, but it’s mostly underground. A lot bigger than it looks inside.” That was an understatement, but figured it was hard to explain to someone who hadn’t been there. A hand-drawn map, carefully measured to scale, decorated the page under his fingers. A small asterisk in red pen marked the location of the old bar, spitting distance from the beach.

 

“Shit, I meant to change before we got out of there,” Dante assessed himself regretfully. “I look like something the cat dragged in.”

 

~

 

_“What is it, what did you see?”_

 

“That’s the problem,” Alex murmured, “I didn’t see anything.”

 

Alex’s reaction was a bit complicated for the vampire to explain, it had been as if all of his senses picked up on small details he wasn’t even aware of to alert him of danger. As if all the subliminal signs of danger were being detected and alarm bells set off without Alex knowing why they were going off. The few times such a reaction had happened, to Alex’s knowledge, had always been when an exceptionally dangerous predator was nearby.

 

“I just...I felt...it’s so difficult to explain and I wish I had a better way to describe it to you...” He trailed off, frustrated and worried Dante would just think he was paranoid. “It was like Maine all over again, just minding my own business when suddenly I feel as if Nikolai and every elder who agreed with my execution are all standing behind me breathing down the back of my neck. The worst part is, I know he’s nowhere nearby, I’d feel it if he was.”

 

_“Yeah, trust me when I say nothing’s getting into that place if they don’t want it to.”_

 

The vampire only nodded, knowing there was nowhere safer to go than a bar loaded up with hunters. Any other time, Alex would have found some amusement over him rushing to a hunter bar as a safe haven. Right now though, the idea of someone, something, or a group of someones or somethings stalking them through unknown means was more than enough to justify the desperation. Worst of all, Alex doubted he could protect himself and Dante and the thought of anything happening to his partner was too much.

 

_“What the fuck, what was that?”_

 

Once they were outside, Alex kept up at a brisk walk, though the feeling of being watched faded, the feeling of a bigger predator looming was ever present. Just as bad as the danger they were undoubtedly in was the fact that whatever it was had caught up to them so fast and to top it all off, it ruined the few blissful moments of peace they’d had to feel normal.

 

“I might have a few theories,” Alex mumbled, placing the bags of shoe boxes into the car before jumping into the driver’s seat and turning the car on. “It can’t be Nikolai stalking us, but I wouldn’t put it past him to be involved in this somehow, that being said, whoever it is has to be dangerous enough to cause that kind of reaction. Maybe Nikolai knows I’d sense it if he were close and run, so someone else is doing his dirty work? I don’t know, I still can’t explain that being watched feeling...You’ve mentioned witches before, but I think we’ll have answers once we get to Rafter’s.”

 

_“Getting real tired of all this creepy smoke-and-mirrors business, I can’t believe I’m hoping for something to jump out and try to eat us, but that seems like a better option than whatever the hell this is.”_

 

“If we accept the theory that we were herded here into the city, then maybe that was whoever was herding us checking in on what we’re doing.” Alex wasn’t entirely sure if that was the case, but he was trying to understand why they were being watched and no one had done anything to them. “It’s ominous, that’s for sure.”

 

_“Rockaway Park, do you know it? Rafter’s place doesn’t look like much from the street, but it’s mostly underground. A lot bigger than it looks inside.”_

 

Pulling out of the parking spot, circling around to the nearest exit, and then pulling out onto the road, Alex waited for instructions, wanting to put some distance between them and the mall for now. When Dante told him where to start driving he nodded, switching lanes specifically to head in that direction.

 

“Yeah, I know how to get there,” he responded, feeling tense and trying to relax a bit. “...You know, I think I’ll like it if it’s mostly underground, less chance of sunburn that way.”

 

_“Shit, I meant to change before we got out of there, I look like something the cat dragged in.”_

 

“...You can still change,” Alex said, giving Dante a slight side eye. “Might be a bit difficult in the car while it’s moving and everything, but it’s manageable. I mean, the main thing you’d have to worry about is people in neighboring cars looking over at you.”

 

Still driving, Alex eventually got them to Rockaway park, circling a bit until he found a parking spot. It wasn’t ideal, he would have liked a parking garage to leave their things, but this spot was in a well-lit area and not too far from where Alex suspected most of the shops and businesses in the area would be. With the car now parked, Alex looked over at Dante, trying to gauge how well his partner was doing all things considered.

 

“If it’s any consolation, you look fine regardless of what you’re wearing,” Alex said simply.

 

~

 

_“I just...I felt...it’s so difficult to explain and I wish I had a better way to describe it to you… It was like Maine all over again, just minding my own business when suddenly I feel as if Nikolai and every elder who agreed with my execution are all standing behind me breathing down the back of my neck.”_

 

“Dammit,” Dante punched his fist into his knee in frustration, “every freaking time I let my guard down...” He felt incredibly stupid, and was experiencing the most unsettling sense of dejavu from their brief foray into normalcy at the arcade bar. He figured he would have learned his lesson about lapsing into apathy, even for an hour or two. Apparently not.

 

_“It can’t be Nikolai stalking us, but I wouldn’t put it past him to be involved in this somehow, that being said, whoever it is has to be dangerous enough to cause that kind of reaction.”_

 

Dante was too frustrated to composed an intelligent answer, rolling the window down enough to chain-smoke several angry cigarettes. Even the nicotine wasn’t doing much for him, but regulating his breathing seemed to do the trick. Between that and the bracing cold air his nerves eventually calmed down to a more manageable level.

 

_“...You can still change… Might be a bit difficult in the car while it’s moving and everything, but it’s manageable. I mean, the main thing you’d have to worry about is people in neighboring cars looking over at you.”_

 

“Eh, let em look,” Dante toed his boots off, recognizing that he didn’t have much modesty left at this stage in his life. “Might as well give ‘em a free show at this point.” It wasn’t ideal, but it wasn’t as if it would be the first time one of them had been forced to change on the go. He reached into the backseat and pulled out one of their bags, sifting through for a complete change of clothes. He leaned his seat back enough to tug his jacket off, followed quickly by his jeans and t-shirt.

 

“Not exactly my favorite reason to strip in a moving vehicle,” the hunter joked dryly as he shimmied into a new pair of jeans, yanking the tags off and stuffing them into the bag. “Doesn’t even make my top three actually... and shit, these are tight even by my standards.” He shifted and yanked the material until everything fit where it was supposed to, wondering if he would regret his decision to go twinsies on the skinny jeans.

 

The hunter folded up his old clothes and set them on the back floorboard, figuring they would have time to organize later. He cast a quick glance at his partner, wondering if he should feel a little weirder about being pretty much half-naked around him, even if it was far from the first occasion. Thoughts for a later time, as Alex seemed nonplussed. Dante pulled a white t-shirt, black hoodie, and jean jacket on in layers, feeling better about a fresh set of digs than he’d expected. “Smells like new shit,” he took a whiff of his hoodie, frowning, “gotta fix that ASAP.”

 

“Hey,” he grinned mischievously, “check out my hat.” He flashed the front of the baseball cap he’d thrown into his haul towards his partner, embroidered white letters on the front spelling out FUCK IT ALL. “I couldn’t resist.” He pulled it on over his shaggy hair, thinking he was probably overdue for a cut. The hat might have been a childish pick, but he wasn’t lying… he really couldn't resist.

 

“Do you wanna change?” He asked when they parked, kicking his legs out of the open car door to pull on new socks and the black and white Vans.

 

The hunter stepped out of the car and straightened the unfamiliar clothes, enjoying the salted breeze... even if it didn’t exactly smell like daisies. He reached into his t-shirt and pulled out the silver crucifix, letting it fall against the fabric with a lingering touch. It felt oddly warm to him, probably from the heater in the car or lying against his skin.

 

_“If it’s any consolation, you look fine regardless of what you’re wearing.”_

 

Dante turned away to hide his suddenly-warm face, disguising the motion as he studied the street around them and the boardwalk with the beach beyond it. “Guess that answers that question,” he managed to get out after a moment with what he hoped was a natural smile. “Between the two of us though, I don’t think anyone’s really gonna be looking at me.” He usually blew off comments like the one Alex had just made by overcompensating, some kind of sarcasm or joking flirtatious remark. That was a facade that was getting harder and harder to keep up as the days went by.

 

“We’re about a block away from the guild,” he nodded in the direction of their target when his partner finished locking the car and rejoined him. The hunter tucked his Beretta into the back of his waistband, because his jeans weren’t already tight enough without it… sarcasm intended. “Come on.”

 

A brief walk in the crisp wind led them to their destination, an unassuming building from the early 80s that had seen a few half-hearted facelifts in its time.

 

The Bulkhead was the title sprawled in faded red letters on the wood over the door, but few ever used that name. The same way “Rafter’s” belonged on paper to an Irishman by the name of Arthur O’Beirne, but nobody called him that either. The way Rafter put it, there were the names you were given and the names you got, and you should be grateful for one and forget the other. What exactly Dante was meant to glean from that little gem of wisdom, he’d never quite figured out.

 

Dante pushed through the swinging front door into the dimly lit corridor, past a bouncer who didn’t look too enthusiastic about his job. He felt the man’s eyes tracing them both head to foot, doubtless seeing that they were armed. As obvious as it was, the man still didn’t move to stop them, or even card them for that matter.

 

“Waste of new ID’s,” Dante made commentary as they headed downwards.

 

A set of wide wooden stairs lined with runes and seals led down into the actual bar. At some point the place had been meant to resemble an old sea vessel or a pirate ship or something, but the decor in various states of updated fashion indicated that theme had been thrown out the window a long time ago.

 

The hunter was a little taken aback at the crowd awaiting them downstairs. The few times he’d been here as a teenager, he remembered empty barstools and forlorn music drifting out of a jukebox in the corner that only worked when it wanted to. Tonight the floor was packed, upbeat drinking music booming out of a set of speakers set up near the empty stage, where a red-faced drunk was pretending to sing karaoke. At least the jukebox was still there, one of the few familiar details. A dense fog of cigarette smoke hung like cloud cover near the ceiling, nearly obscuring the overhead lights altogether. The small round tables were occupied by humans, mostly. It was hard to tell but Dante was fairly certain a few demons lingered near the gambling table too. If there were any other creatures milling around he couldn’t immediately sense them, and that was a good thing. Aside from the occasional unavoidable brawl, this was a strict no-fire zone.

 

“It’s uh, gotten popular I guess,” the hunter commented as he looked around the busy space. His eyes traveled over to the bar, a long, wrapping slab of polished mahogany taking up almost two entire walls. His eyes softened as he lit on the man cleaning glasses behind the counter, a figure that hadn’t changed at all over the years.

 

Rafter was a towering beast of a man with an impressive red beard partially tamed on the sides by two braids that hung from his chin. Both massive arms the size of tree trunks were crowded with pin-up style tattoos. The ink had bled and faded with age, leaving it difficult to distinguish where one piece ended and the other began. Distantly, the hunter wondered if his tattoos would look like that in the unlikely event he ever reached the same age.

 

The second Rafter’s sharp green eyes, always smiling, always watching, lit on him standing by the stairs, Dante could tell he’d been spotted.

 

“Dante?” The voice was loud enough to carry over the din of music and squabbling patrons. The hunter watched Rafter’s eyes light up with recognition, an expression quickly followed by a beaming smile. The big man crab-walked out from behind the bar, shoving through the crowd towards the hunter. Thankfully the people gathered in dense clumps had enough sense to part like the Red Sea before him after catching a few stray elbows. Rafter marched right up and greeted him with a hug, strong enough to crack his spine uncomfortably and lift his boots several inches off the ground like he didn’t weigh a thing.

 

“Sweet mother of Christ himself,” Rafter laughed when he had finally returned the smaller man to solid ground, “look at you kid. You’ve gotten damn thin, ain’t you?”

 

Dante’s returning smile turned into a grimace. “I’ve been eating,” he immediately tried to defend himself, feeling like a child caught lying, but the bartender had already moved on from the subject.

 

“Ain’t seen you in years. Wasn’t sure you were still alive. Come on, come get you a drink.”

 

Dante didn’t waste his time protesting. Raising his eyebrows helplessly at his partner, he followed Rafter back to the bar, allowing the much larger man to clear a path for them. Rafter unceremoniously booted a pair of nodding drunks from their stools, indicating with a wave of his hand for Dante and Alex to take the vacated spots.

 

Without preamble, Rafter smacked a whiskey glass down directly in front of Dante with what seemed like an unnecessary amount of force.

 

“You haven’t said a word,” Rafter poured two fingers into the glass with deceptive grace, “still an antisocial little bugger I see.”

 

“I haven’t said a word because you’ve been talking,” Dante smiled, and was promptly ignored.

 

“Ain't even introduced me to your partner,” Rafter smiled warmly at Alex with a proud expression Dante wasn’t sure he liked, and without further ado the bartender reached across the counter to take Alex’s hand in both of his own massive ones and shake it vigorously. “So happy to meet you, boy. Warmed my heart to hear Dante finally got himself a partner. Been alone too long, that one.”

 

Dante’s brows furrowed as he eyed Rafter suspiciously, wondering what exactly that was supposed to mean. The Irishman pushed the glass closer to Dante encouragingly.

 

Dante Didn't reach for the glass. While he’d occasionally drank with Rafter as a teenager after hunts, the big man knew he was too paranoid that while inebriated he might be too sluggish, too distracted, too slow to handle any sudden dangers. It could cost him his life, and the reward didn’t seem worth the risk. If he was being honest, the only reason he didn’t drink now was Alex, though at times the urge was strong. He didn’t trust himself to keep his mouth shut with any amount of liquor in him.

 

Rafter huffed as if offended when Dante only raised an eyebrow at the glass, but took the hint. “Alright then. Tell me. Where have you been all this time, huh?”

 

“I’ve been traveling,” Dante provided vaguely, “hunting.”

 

“Oh, thanks for that, I’m all caught up now. Paints a vivid picture,” the heavy sarcasm accompanying the words made Dante’s smile widen. It was possible that’s where Dante’s own dry humor had developed from. The massive ex-hunter had been a shaping force in his life throughout his childhood years.

 

“It’s a really long story, honestly.”

 

“How the hell you been surviving like that, kid? Miracle nothing’s snapped you up.” Rafter eyed him closely, adding somewhat apologetically “not that you got much meat on them bones, anyhow.”

 

“Okay I get it,” Dante griped, just knowing Alex had to be loving this, “I need to eat more. Can we let that go please...”

 

As if out of thin air, a plate of greasy-looking wings appeared on the counter in front of him. Rafter looked immensely proud of himself.

 

“No time like the present, eh? It’s a new recipe.”

 

Dammit. Dante nodded his thanks, reaching out absently to straighten the oval basket in front of him.

 

Rafter didn’t need much encouragement, nodding in approval as he tossed an empty glass into the air and caught it expertly. He pulled a draft of thick red liquid from the faucet behind the bar and slammed the tap handle back up when it was full before placing the drink in front of Alex.

 

“Warm O negative, on the house,” Rafter winked, “you’ve earned it, running around with this one. Guaranteed twenty-four hours fresh.”

 

Dante rolled his eyes, but supposed he shouldn’t be surprised Rafter had clearly upgraded the facilities since his last visit, especially considering their open door policy to comers of all races.

 

“This place has really picked up,” he remarked, still surveying the raucous crowd.

 

“Aye,” the pride was clear in the big Irishman’s eyes as he gave the walls and ceiling a visual once-over. “She’s got some life left in her bones I suppose.” It was clear he was trying to be modest.

 

“Easy there Captain Jack... It’s a bar, not a pirate ship,” Dante felt the need to point out. He could feel eyes on him like a hawk, so he made a show out of trying one of the chicken wings. Apparently his reaction was satisfactory.

 

“Ah, you’re a sight for sore eyes, boy. You look like a real hunter now.”

 

Dante looked up from the wing he was attempting to dissect to catch Rafter staring at him fondly.

 

“Thank you...?” Dante gave a pained grimace, drawing a laugh out of the larger man.

 

“You know what I meant,” Rafter chuckled, a look of dumb pride still beaming on his cheeks. “Yer still a kid, just all grown up and grizzled. Got some ink and scars on ya. The badges we hunters earn for livin.”

 

Dante shrugged, eyeing the big hand resting on the countertop, quite obviously short a ring finger and pinkie. “Didn’t you always use to tell me... beware an old man in a profession where men die young?”

 

Rafter’s response came in the form of a booming belly laugh, and Dante winced as he all but felt the glass in his hands shake with the volume of the sound. He was pretty sure that whatever hearing he’d managed to regain was going to be gone again in a few minutes.

 

Still laughing to himself like he’d heard the greatest joke ever told, Rafter turned his full attention to Alex with a pleased grin. Dante tensed, wondering what kind of hell the vampire was about to be subjected to. He almost felt bad for his partner, but figured he could handle himself.

 

Eyeing the vampire, Rafter shook his head with a chuckle. “Well the two of you are a pair of lookers, eh? Fit right in here in the city. So tell me, where’d you pick up this clown?” He leaned in like he was telling a secret and gestured towards Dante like he wasn’t sitting right there next to Alex. “Did you walk through some mud, and he stick to the bottom of your shoe?”

 

Dante stared blankly at the cackling Irishman, wondering if anyone had ever told him he wasn’t nearly as funny as he thought he was.

 

'Sorry' he mouthed at Alex, feeling infinitely guilty for subjecting him to this line of questioning. Out loud he muttered, "tried to warn you."

 

~

 

_“Dammit, every freaking time I let my guard down...”_

 

“It’s not your fault,” Alex insisted, not wanting his partner to beat himself up over all of this. “You’re only human after all, you can’t expect to be on guard constantly.”

 

Alex resumed driving in silence as Dante chain smoked out the window. Normally the smell of smoke wafting off of his partner was comforting, a familiar scent he’d always associated with the hunter, but here and now it was a reminder of how stressful this all was on them. A few glances are cast Dante’s way and Alex would be lying if he said he wasn’t listening to Dante’s vitals to be sure he actually was calming a bit.

 

_“Eh, let em look. Might as well give ‘em a free show at this point.”_

 

When Dante went ahead and actually started stripping, Alex glanced over, eyeing scars, tattoos, and expanses of muscle and bone underneath tanned skin. He looked away quickly enough, his glance not really standing out from the concerned looks he always seemed to aim at the hunter at times like this. A part of him wished he could have looked longer, but if Dante didn’t even react to casual flirting, Alex doubted he’d react well to outright being stared at while half naked.

 

_“Not exactly my favorite reason to strip in a moving vehicle. Doesn’t even make my top three actually... and shit, these are tight even by my standards.”_

 

“I’m not entirely sure I even want to ask, but...” Alex commented, a lint of humor in his voice. “What are your top three reasons for stripping in a moving vehicle?”

 

The vampire felt some degree of satisfaction watching Dante squirm and struggle to get the much too tight jeans on properly. If he had to put up with it he sure wasn’t putting up with it alone. Not to mention, actually seeing Dante in them, rather than simply enduring wearing them, improved his opinion of them just a little bit.

 

“I take my earlier assessment back, demons weren’t behind the invention of skinny jeans,” he said, his attention on the road now. “Fallen angels, maybe, still has that aura of evil emanating from them, but not as evil as you can go.”

 

_“Smells like new shit, gotta fix that ASAP.”_

 

To Alex’s knowledge, they’d only ever stripped down to boxers around each other. Anything more than that would have probably been too much as far as pushing boundaries. Then again, they usually shared a bed, not that Alex slept, but still. So of course, Dante being half naked was the opposite of a problem, given how Alex felt about the hunter. When Dante started pulling new clothing on, he gave him another glance, having been otherwise preoccupied with watching the hunter himself rather than the clothing being picked out at the time.

 

_“Hey, check out my hat. I couldn’t resist.”_

 

“If it makes you happy, I’m happy,” was the response, though one of Alex’s eyebrows raised a little, knowing how poorly the hat might go over in mixed company. “Just be sure to take it off if we get invited to any grandiose garden parties or to the opera,” he added in a dry tone, doubting either occasion would arise.

 

_“Do you wanna change?”_

 

“These jeans are still pretty fresh, but I’m fine with changing anyway,” Alex responded while Dante changed shoes.

 

Reaching in back, Alex grabbed the bag of clothing Dante had picked for him. Digging around, Alex picked out a set of black skinny jeans, a random NASA t-shirt for the trendy points, and a deep olive green jacket that had a reasonable thickness to it for this time of year. He of course kept his gloves on, but proceeded to slip out of his current jacket, dagger holsters, and t-shirt before redressing in the new bits of clothing. His old ones sat in a neatly folded pile on the dash for the time being. Swapping his black skinny jeans for a less faded set of black skinny jeans involved some maneuvering, Alex inadvertently displaying more flexibility than he’d intended to while wrestling them on.

 

“Never mind, it was demons,” he muttered, reaching back and picking out the dark red colored converses to put on, which took a few minutes as he adjusted the laces.

 

Getting out of the car now, Alex took his clothing and stuck them under the seat in back. Then he dug around, locating the wallet he bought before storing his ID and inside. A moment later, he double checked his daggers were concealed, then gave himself a once over in the window’s reflection. As much as he wanted to pop his contacts in, he didn’t want to come across as deceptive or for people to think of him that way. Though the contacts were usually for his own comfort in public when he wore them.

 

_“Guess that answers that question. Between the two of us though, I don’t think anyone’s really gonna be looking at me.”_

 

The vampire gave his partner an unimpressed look, feeling more than a little dejected. He just couldn’t figure out why Dante kept deflecting like this. Giving Dante a slow, analytical once over, then looking down the length of his own body, he shook his head.

 

“They’re most definitely looking at you,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Of course, that hat might raise a few eyebrows.”

 

_“We’re about a block away from the guild. Come on.”_

 

The walk wasn’t too bad despite the chilled air. The sight of the building that was apparently Rafter’s Guild wasn’t impressive up top, but from what Dante’s said, it seemed like most of the structure would have been below ground. That and Alex knew well enough to not judge a book by its cover. When they got in past the bored looking bouncer, Alex was a little surprised they weren’t asked for ID or even stopped.

 

_“Waste of new IDs,”_

 

“And here I was wanting to show off how good your fakes are,” Alex agreed.

 

As they went down, Alex pondered just how old the building was, or if it had been here back when he was alive. There has been a whole second world parallel to the world of normal people and Alex had been unaware of it during his mortal life. The idea that hunter bars and hubs like this could exist anywhere wasn’t lost on Alex.

 

“Do you know what any of the tunes and seals mean?” Alex murmured before they arrived downstairs.

 

_“It’s uh, gotten popular I guess,”_

 

The sight of a sizeable crowd downstairs set Alex a little on edge. It limited his senses for one, he just wasn’t a people person, and secondly he felt eyes on him from too many angles, which made him somewhat nervous. The obvious saving grace was Alex realizing he wasn’t the only supernatural creature hanging around. He surmised that if anyone was staring at him, it wasn’t necessarily because he was a vampire.

 

_“Dante?”_

 

The sound of his partner’s name got Alex’s attention and he followed the sound to the man behind the bar counter. It didn’t take much to figure out this man was Rafter. For a moment, Alex was alarmed at just how big the guy was, because nothing Dante said prepared him for the sheer size and presence of the man.

 

_“You’ve gotten damn thin, ain’t you?” ... “I’ve been eating,”_

 

Alex gave Dante a ‘why are you lying’ look from the side, but said nothing. In a way, he felt bad, because apparently Dante has only gotten thinner while being with Alex. Making a mental note, Alex reminded himself to come up with better ways to keep his favorite hunter fed properly.

 

_“Ain’t seen you in years. Wasn’t sure you were still alive. Come on, come get you a drink.”_

 

Alex, having been overwhelmed by the number of people initially, was in an odd way grateful for what was happening, even if it possibly meant the return of ‘DUI’ or Dante Under the Influence. The vampire gave Dante a small shrug of his shoulders, the ghost of a reassuring smile playing across his lips as they were lead through the crowded bar. This was hardly the worst turn of events.

 

The vampire hopped up into one of the recently vacated spots at the bar when they appeared. He looked around a bit more, drinking in the details now that he wasn’t overwhelmed and could process things a little better. When a glass of whiskey was placed forcefully in front of Dante, Alex pondered how much he wanted to deal with hung over Dante the following morning or night.

 

_“Ain't even introduced me to your partner. So happy to meet you, boy. Warmed my heart to hear Dante finally got himself a partner. Been alone too long, that one.”_

 

Up until now, Alex had been silently watching the exchange between Dante and Rafter. It’s when he becomes the subject of conversation that he perks up a little bit. The sudden feeling of having his hand vigorously shook normally wouldn’t have startled him. Given the circumstances, he was just glad his arm wasn’t yanked out of its socket from the sheer amount of energy going into the two-handed handshake.

 

“N-nice to meet you,” Alex stammered a little, something he normally didn’t do, but he was so thrown off by what was happening that he was scrambling for words. “My name’s Alex,” he added quickly, figuring now was the time to give something of an introduction.

 

One thing Rafter said caught Alex’s attention, that thing being how apparently Dante’s partner situation was something that had apparently traveled down the grapevine. It was odd, realizing they might be the subject of rumors and gossip in hunter circles. Then again, it probably wasn’t too bizarre as the pair of them were something unusual, in the sense that even vampires friendly to hunters didn’t take to hunting their own kind. They certainly never partnered up with hunters, that much was certain.

 

_“Okay I get it. I need to eat more. Can we let that go please...” ... “No time like the present, eh? It’s a new recipe.”_

 

The entire time, Alex watched the conversation unfold, not wanting to interrupt. He’d also guessed Dante and Rafter might want some time to catch up, so he simply opted to be a casual observer for now. That being said, he took immense satisfaction in not being the only one pestering Dante about not eating enough.

 

_“Warm O negative, on the house, you’ve earned it, running around with this one. Guaranteed twenty-four hours fresh.”_

 

Alex looked surprised at the sight and smell of a glass of blood on the counter. It was a bit of a culture shock, that much was certain. He hadn’t ever really experienced someone, a retired hunter least of all, to casually have blood on tap. His dietary necessities were usually a point of discomfort in mixed company, but here and now it seemed like a non-issue.

 

“Thank you,” he said, genuine relief in his voice as he accepted the glass.

 

He was mostly grateful because he hadn’t had the first idea how he was going to keep feeding in the city without resorting to biting his own partner again. That and this lent some credit to the idea that it was actually safe here and he wasn’t going to be shunned for being a vampire.

 

Once again, Alex opted to be a quiet observer as he sipped at the glass of blood. It was strange, drinking it from a glass. He’d been so used to ripping open and drinking from cold blood bags, taking a bite out of some animal, or drinking directly from Dante. The warmth and consistency of the blood was nice, something he wasn’t used to having. If Rafter and Dante weren’t in the middle of talking Alex might have asked how they kept the blood this consistency and temperature.

 

_“Didn’t you always use to tell me... beware an old man in a profession where men die young?”_

 

As much as Alex secretly admired the tattoos and scars on his partner, right then they seemed like a vivid reminder of just how short a hunter’s lifespan was for most. Looking between his partner and Rafter, the vampire contemplated when retirement might be for most hunters. Even though it had occasionally come up, Alex had a hard time imagining Dante just sitting idly by while there were monsters and evil things in the world to hunt. Their theoretical idea of life in the suburbs had been nice, but when it came down to it, it felt wrong for them.

 

_“So tell me, where’d you pick up this clown?” “Did you walk through some mud, and he stick to the bottom of your shoe?” 'Sorry' ... "tried to warn you."_

 

“Well,” Alex started, giving his partner an apologetic glance, “he actually picked me up, if you’d believe it.”

 

It was hardly a secret that the day they met was one of Alex’s favorite stories to tell. Most of the time, however, he didn’t have anyone to tell it to simply because of the nature of their work. Things and people trying to kill them were hardly good listeners and the few neutral hunters they’d come across didn’t seem all that interested in casual chatter with a vampire. Even now, it only just occurred to Alex that the only person he’d had to talk to in a while was Dante himself.

 

“My coven was in the middle of trying to execute me,” he continued, “when this amazingly idiotic idiot, with ice in his jacket I might add, drops in to interrupt the whole thing.”

 

From that point, Alex recounted things from his point of view, the sight of a human boy hacking away at silver chains and pulling him up to his feet so they could run was the most vivid part of it. He did vaguely recall the holy water canisters keeping the other vampires at bay, enough that Alex and Dante had no trouble fleeing to the catacombs. From there it was a matter of describing the pitch dark labyrinth Alex had memorized decades prior and how the pair of them navigated it while being pursued by other vampires and eventually ended up in Albany.

 

“Dante can probably fill in more of the blanks,” the vampire concluded. “I was half starved and in a lot of pain at the time, so I wasn’t as aware as I’d have liked.”

 


	7. All of Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Old memories are dug up and Dante does some research.

_“My coven was in the middle of trying to execute me when this amazingly idiotic idiot, with ice in his jacket I might add, drops in to interrupt the whole thing.”_

 

Rafter leaned one arm on the bar, causing it to creak in protest under the weight, and drank in Alex telling every detail with the rapt attention of a child listening, starry-eyed, to a fairy tale. The big man had never been very difficult to entertain.

 

Groaning, Dante covered his eyes with one hand. At the hunter’s expense, Alex loved that story, and having a brand new audience hanging off of every word was all the encouragement he needed. Dante picked at the wings in the basket in front of him, which to be fair were delicious, and shook his head as he listened to Rafter laugh at all the embarrassing details.

 

“What if we just, breeze over the bits where I was young and dumb and focus on the fact that I saved your life, maybe?” Dante protested half-heartedly and was promptly ignored. No surprise there. At the very least he should be happy that Rafter seemed to like Alex, although he’d never really been worried about that. Rafter would make friends with anything that wasn’t actively trying to kill him.

 

“Careful, at the rate you’re going he’s going to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner here in a minute,” he tried to warn Alex, “and it’s not really gonna be a suggestion either.” He could only imagine the kind of stories Rafter might try to wring out of Alex if he got him alone for an hour. He made a mental note to try to avoid letting that happen.

 

_“Dante can probably fill in more of the blanks... I was half starved and in a lot of pain at the time, so I wasn’t as aware as I’d have liked.”_

 

Rafter was still laughing to himself, a low rumble in his big chest like a freight train. “Can’t say that surprises me. Ice packs Dante, really? What were you thinking boy... You know that’s an old wives tale.”

 

“Well I do now,” Dante heavy-sighed, wondering how he’d gotten himself on the losing end of this game, “you can’t blame me for trying it. I mean silver and holy water work, why not other shit?”

 

Rafter completely ignored his protests, already rambling on. “Now those little holy bombs of yours, that’s a fine bit of thinking. You always had a big brain on you. You’ll have to show me how you made those… Could fetch a pretty penny on the underground, I reckon.”

 

“Easy cash,” Dante was just thankful to move on from the ice pack thing, “I can make you a copy of my schematics.”

 

Rafter hummed in agreement, topping off Alex’s glass without being asked and shoving the mostly-full basket of wings back towards Dante until it was literally touching his arm. Dante shot him a withering look.

 

He knew he hadn’t lost much weight since his teenage years, possibly just a bit of baby fat. On the other hand he had gained about two inches in height, which probably accounted for Rafter thinking he was getting skinny. Whatever the reasons, he knew there was no point trying to defend himself.

 

Rafter braced both hands on the bar, looking between the two of them like a proud parent. “Damn it’s good to see your face, Dante.” Sobering a bit, he added, “missed you at your dad’s funeral.”

 

And just like that, Dante was a drinking man. Against his better judgement, he reached for the neglected whiskey, downing enough to attempt to rinse the sour taste from his mouth.

 

“I don’t want to talk about him,” the hunter bit out coldly, attempting to end that conversation before it began. Without turning his head, he gave a sideways glance at the vampire sitting next to him, trying to make a point for Rafter to drop it. The last thing he wanted was for the Irishman to be digging up his shit in front of Alex.

 

“Oi. Dante,” the Irishman’s tone was disapproving as he completely abandoned subtlety, “wasn’t no saint, but that man raised you.”

 

“He didn’t raise me, he trained me,” Dante snapped without meaning to, “I wasn’t his son. I was his soldier. And he made no bones about it that I was a shitty one.” He bit his lip to avoid saying more, staring down at the glass clenched between his hands like a weapon.

 

Rafter looked immensely sad like the younger man had said those words about him instead. Dante couldn’t fathom why.

 

“We came in looking for gear. Or jobs, whatever’s available.” Dante stared at his nearly-empty glass, feeling a little guilty. He hadn’t come in here to talk about his father, a topic that was still a little raw. Maybe more than a little. He made a point of not looking over at Alex, uncomfortable that the tender subject had been breached twice now in the space of a few hours.

 

Ignoring the real point of the hunter’s comment, Rafter made a face that clearly indicated he thought Dante was being rude. The hunter couldn’t exactly blame him.

 

“I can smell a costume change, but even in a fresh coat of paint you two look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet,” Rafter kept up his unrequested commentary, but thankfully moved on. Dante had an unpleasant feeling that it was a temporary fix, and that he hadn’t heard the last of that topic by a long shot. Rafter was a dog with a bone when he put his mind to it.

 

“I got a room for you downstairs, we’ll get you two all set up. You know you’re welcome here as long as you like.” Rafter paused his mother-henning long enough to bellow a grim warning across the room at two patrons shaking the jukebox. Returning to looming over the pair like an oak tree, he flipped back to smiling like a light switch. “Time enough for business tomorrow, don’t you think?” Dante started to protest. “Don’t you think?” Rafter repeated, and Dante didn’t miss the warning in his voice.

 

Well that was intimidating. Swallowing, the hunter nodded. He knew when he’d been beat, and despite the buff Irish Santa Claus facade, he knew from experience that Rafter was not the kind of man you wanted to piss off.

 

“Now. Relax you two. Enjoy the refreshments,” Rafter seemed pleased to realize that Dante had gotten smarter with age, or at least smart enough not to argue on principle. “Take a load off. I’m gonna go get the missus and tell her you’re here. She’s been waiting a long time to meet you, boy.”

 

Dante thought he should probably say something, maybe try to stand his ground. While he was still thinking about it, Rafter disappeared through one of the old wood doors on either side of the bar.

 

“Well fuck…” Left to their own devices, Dante scrubbed at his eyes with both hands. With a defeated sigh he finished off his whiskey. Getting tipsy felt like the least of his worries tonight.

 

For the first time since coming in, he let his eyes drift to the wide mirror behind the bar, crowded with shelves of ancient alcohol bottles and framed by old photographs. He knew there was one of Rafter with his dad and him up there, taken when he’d been no more than ten or twelve years old. He spotted it quickly, exactly where it had always been on the bottom left corner. Dante didn’t allow his eyes to linger long enough to take in the details. He pointedly looked away.

 

“What do you think the odds are we could make a break for it…” Dante surveyed the milling crowd around them, knowing it was hopeless. Even if it was an option he was seriously considering, they didn’t exactly have anywhere else to hide. Smirking at his partner by way of apology, Dante admitted, “at least he likes you. Maybe a little too much.”

 

He was still trying to decipher the way Rafter was looking at the two of them like he knew something they didn’t. It was a little unnerving and he couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

~

 

_“What if we just, breeze over the bits where I was young and dumb and focus on the fact that I saved your life, maybe?”_

 

“To be fair, I was already kind of dead by the time you found me, about ninety years too late for life-saving,” Alex said, feeling the edge of his mouth twitch just a bit. “But you did save me from becoming a pile of dust, like a knight in ice-filled armor.”

 

A blind man probably could have noticed the way Alex looked at Dante when he recounted the story. A blind man also probably could have noticed that while Alex there was a reverent kind of tone whenever he mentioned the bit about narrowly being dusted and Dante stupidly jumping in to rescue him. The way the story was told could easily be read as a narrow escape from death, one of many close calls where they had to work against impossible odds. The way Alex told it could easily be interpreted as reminiscent of an old married person telling people how they met their spouse as well.

 

_“Careful, at the rate you’re going he’s going to invite you to Thanksgiving dinner here in a minute, and it’s not really gonna be a suggestion either.”_

 

“It would certainly be a step up from that other hypothetical Thanksgiving dinner neither of us want to go to,” the vampire gave Dante a pointed look, referring to their ‘psycho in-laws’ currently trying to hunt them down.

 

_“Well I do now, you can’t blame me for trying it. I mean silver and holy water work, why not other shit?”_

 

It had been endearing when they met, having to dispel a few myths and provide answers to thinks few non-vampires knew about. Nikolai had tried to teach him, make him more like the other members of their coven, and Alex had drank all the knowledge up and gleefully used what he’d learned against his old coven. He had no reservations when he’d spilled as much information to Dante as he could over the four years they’d been together. Speaking of, he idly thought about the fifth year mark and when that would be coming up.

 

_“Easy cash, I can make you a copy of my schematics.”_

 

It was times like these when Alex wondered how some crazy cult of hunters had ever convinced Dante he was somehow anything but perfect, special, amazing and a million other things the vampire wanted to wax poetically about. As hot-headed and stubborn as he was, it had been pleasantly surprising to find Dante was much smarter than he appeared or let on. It had also been helpful to have someone fill in his knowledge gaps about things Alex didn’t know much about.

 

With his glass refilled, Alex happily took another long sip, almost draining half of it again. He knew this would help until they could get back on the road again and out where he could hunt properly. He wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and if the blood train was rolling, he wasn’t about to jump off just yet.

 

_“We came in looking for gear. Or jobs, whatever’s available.”_

 

Alex bit his lip a little as the conversation shifted to Dante’s father, knowing that only a few hours ago they’d touched on this topic. He felt bad now, having brought it up at all earlier. Having it mentioned here and now, with Dante drinking and being moody, seemed like a recipe for disaster.

 

_“I can smell a costume change, but even in a fresh coat of paint you two look like you’ve been rode hard and put away wet,”_

 

As much as Alex liked to think they presented well enough, he was sure everything else about them indicated they’d had a rough time recently. With the atmosphere feeling a little more charged, Alex glanced around the room, seemingly preoccupied with the activity going on around them. Really though, he wasn’t paying any mind to the other patrons, but trying not to feel like he was listening in on a conversation he wasn’t sure Dante wanted him to hear.

 

_“I got a room for you downstairs, we’ll get you two all set up. You know you’re welcome here as long as you like. Time enough for business tomorrow, don’t you think? Don’t you think?”_

 

Alex was taking a long sip of the tall glass of blood in front of him. All this talk of Dante’s father and Dante trying to change the subject to finding jobs and gear made the air just a little tense a moment later. Right now seemed the perfect time to keep any quips, comments, or dry remarks to himself. The last thing he wanted was for Dante to be moodier than strictly necessary and it certainly didn’t help that he was actually drinking.

 

_“Now. Relax you two. Enjoy the refreshments. Take a load off. I’m gonna go get the missus and tell her you’re here. She’s been waiting a long time to meet you, boy.”_

 

While Dante had been able to warn Alex about Rafter, it sounded as if they were both in for a wild card as far as Rafter’s wife. Alex wasn’t worried, if anything he might have been a bit anxious about meeting new people when he was a bit out of practice with making first impressions on people.

 

_“Well fuck…”_

 

“Maybe we can afford a little less stubbornness?” Alex asked, not necessarily chiding, but more as a gentle reminder that they were kind of up a creek without a paddle. “Just for a little while?” There might have been a slight note of pleading in Alex’s voice.

 

It was silly, but Alex wasn’t necessarily worried about the practicality of it. Of course, staying and finding work and stocking up on supplies and gear was important. More than that, Alex felt like they’d be safe here, that Dante would be safe here, and that for once he wasn’t actively causing them to be shunned.

 

_“What do you think the odds are we could make a break for it… at least he likes you. Maybe a little too much.”_

 

“I don’t know, this is the first time I’ve been to a hunter bar that I didn’t want to leave right away,” Alex said with a shrug. “I’m kind of glad be likes me, I’d hate to be someone he dislikes,” the vampire added, raising a brow while looking at his partner. “I fear for anyone who pisses him off.”

 

Despite how Dante might feel about it, the bar had been one of the few places where he’d felt less on edge with whatever was stalking them. If there was a place for them to actually recover and prepare for what was coming, this seemed like the place to be. Plus, it certainly did help that Rafter was receptive to the idea of them staying a while.

 

“I really should head out, but I can give it an hour or two,” the vampire said after a moment. “I mean, old buildings and cemeteries aren’t going anywhere, so I’m sure I have time tonight.”

 

~

_“Maybe we can afford a little less stubbornness? Just for a little while?”_

 

Groaning dramatically, Dante leaned back on his stool and pushed the wings away, not really hungry even if he should have been. “You’re right,” he admitted reluctantly, and it cost his pride to say it. It would cost them both a lot more than that, he knew, if he assholed them out of a safe harbor. “Sorry. Guess I’m just still tired.” It was the best weak excuse he could offer, besides a heart to heart with Rafter later to explain himself.

 

_“I don’t know, this is the first time I’ve been to a hunter bar that I didn’t want to leave right away.”_

 

Dante didn’t want to leave either, if he was being honest. He just wished he could convince Rafter to save the family talk for whenever Alex wasn’t around. It might have been selfish and shitty of him, but Dante didn’t want Alex to know exactly how terrible that relationship had been. It seemed irrelevant. And maybe secretly, he feared digging up those old feelings of not being good enough, too slow, too small, too impulsive. That wasn’t a part of himself he wanted to revisit around the one person he cared about. Whose opinion of him was so damn important that he desperately didn’t want to see it tarnished.

 

_“I’m kind of glad be likes me, I’d hate to be someone he dislikes.... I fear for anyone who pisses him off.”_

 

“Yup, me too,” Dante was infinitely thankful to say he’d never been on the receiving end of Rafter’s considerable wrath, but he’d witnessed lesser creatures torn limb from limb by it. “I’ve seen him rip wolves apart with his bare hands and walk away with a smile like it never happened,” Dante raised one shoulder, “you know he used to do those crazy competitions where they pull trucks and like, giant boulders and stuff? Guess you don’t have to be a supernatural creature to have some scary talents.”

 

_“I really should head out, but I can give it an hour or two… I mean, old buildings and cemeteries aren’t going anywhere, so I’m sure I have time tonight.”_

 

“At least one of us can make a quick getaway,” Dante felt slightly jealous, while at the same time knowing it would hurt Rafter’s feelings deeply if Dante vanished too, even briefly. “But if you’re gonna jet, you should probably do it before he gets back. He’s not gonna let you get away that easily.”

 

Huffing out his nerves, Dante spun on the stool to face the rest of the bar, just drinking in a place that was both hauntingly familiar and new all at the same time. So much had changed, but the little details jumped out at him. The well-loved jukebox, the wall of photos, the painstakingly polished bar-top.

 

“Man, I loved this place as a kid,” he muttered nostalgically, “Rafter used to let me play whatever I wanted on the Juke. Fell in love with Bob Seger, CCR, Elvis…” He smiled at the memory of flipping endlessly through the old metal discs, his face lit up by glowing neon. “The good stuff.”

 

He felt like he could finally relax, and it wasn’t a sensation he had experienced in years. It left his bones weak with relief, his shoulders lighter than he could ever remember. He hoped Alex felt it too because god only knew they could use a break for once.

 

He should have known that moment wouldn’t last.

 

“Well if it isn’t my sweet little blast from the past,” a voice the texture of velvet came from somewhere at his shoulder, and the hunter flinched as a hand fell on his neck and shoulder like a too-intimate greeting. His first instinct was to throw a punch as he jerked towards the threat, but the sight of a familiar face stopped him in his tracks.

 

The tall figure in front of him was dressed in an expensive looking sweater and a long, black wool coat, looking out of place in a room filled with trucker hats and plaid. His handsome face, all light brown skin and hints of dark stubble across his jawline, was lit up in a knowing smile.

 

“Isaac..?” Dante slowly stood, shocked. “What… what are you doing here?”

 

Dante watched light chocolate eyes, colored like honey, flicker over the hunter’s shoulder towards the vampire at the bar. Dante didn’t entirely like the way Isaac seemed to immediately dismiss his partner’s presence, but he was too floored to do anything about it right away. This was all too much to process.

 

“Well I’m a hunter,” Isaac shrugged like it was the most ridiculous question he could have possibly heard. There was a hint of an accent in his voice, hidden under layers of careful assimilation. “We do travel. Besides, I could ask you the same thing.”

 

Feeling like a fish out of water, Dante could only stare blankly, his brain short-circuiting.

 

Clearly enjoying Dante’s confusion, Isaac again fixed a pointed glance on Alex, not looking away this time. “Who’s this now? New pet?”

 

Dante bristled, and Isaac clearly read it in his eyes because he chuckled. Like it had been a joke, even if Dante knew better.

 

“My partner,” Dante growled in warning, his brain slowly catching up.

 

Isaac raised an eyebrow, and as always implied a lot more than he said. “Relax, firecracker,” always the tactile one, always invading personal space like he owned it, Isaac clapped Dante on the shoulder and squeezed, letting the touch linger a moment too long. His fingers brushed down Dante’s arm as he let go, looking at the smaller hunter like he would a fresh meal. “It’s good to see you again. Let’s catch up when I get back, yeah?”

 

“Where are you going?” Dante glanced down suspiciously at the duffel bag Isaac was carrying in his free hand.

 

“Hunting,” again Isaac acted like he was explaining the concept to a slow child, “We’re in New York. Ground zero. The city’s a prime killing ground, you know. Of course, I assume that’s why you’re here?”

 

“Of course,” Dante lied automatically, unwilling to give anything away. He glanced over at Alex, hoping the encounter wasn’t making him jumpy. No need for two of them to be flying off the handle.

 

“Well. I'll be finished up in a few hours. Take care of yourself,” Isaac didn’t bother to hide the accompanying wink, and just like that he was gone.

 

“Wow…” Dante sank back into his seat as he watched the other hunter leave, feeling blindsided, strangely unbalanced. “I uh… Sorry. He can be kinda blunt I guess.” He pulled his hat off and stuffed it into his pocket before looking over at Alex in trepidation. He felt like he owed the vampire an explanation, especially since Isaac had made a point of not introducing himself. “He’s a witch. He helped me out when I first left the church.”

 

~

 

_“You’re right. Sorry. Guess I’m just still tired.”_

“I keep saying you could use more sleep,” Alex did chide this time, a subtle reminder that he cared even if he was sure it came across as nagging at times. “...You could also afford to finish those,” he said, nodding towards the wings Dante had just pushed a way. “It’s not everyday we can get food that isn’t borderline expired out of a gas station or truck stop,” he added, hoping to appeal to whatever logic guided Dante’s hardheaded decisions.

 

_“Yup, me too. I’ve seen him rip wolves apart with his bare hands and walk away with a smile like it never happened, you know he used to do those crazy competitions where they pull trucks and like, giant boulders and stuff? Guess you don’t have to be a supernatural creature to have some scary talents.”_

 

With Dante telling him about Rafter ripping wolves apart, Alex thought back vividly to their most recent hunt. A shiver ran down Alex’s spine, knowing he’d had trouble with preternatural strength against one. The idea of a hunter able to rip one apart with just his hands like it was nothing was more than a little terrifying, even for him.

 

“You’re going to have to show me videos of these competitions,” Alex breathed a degree of awe in his voice. “It sounds absolutely insane, but now I’m curious. I mean, strongman competitions existed when I was alive, but that was mostly a circus act and I don’t think they ever tried pulling trucks.”

 

_“At least one of us can make a quick getaway. But if you’re gonna jet, you should probably do it before he gets back. He’s not gonna let you get away that easily.”_

 

“Please, I’d rather wait a bit longer, it’d be rude to skip out before meeting Mrs. Rafter,” Alex said with a faint smile and the raise of a single brow. “...To be honest, this is kind of nice...” he trailed off, “kind of like the other night before I stupidly let myself get ‘drugged’ and everything for the fun of it. Too bad they don’t have zombie shooting games, unless Rafter has a secret arcade hidden somewhere?”

 

_“Man, I loved this place as a kid, Rafter used to let me play whatever I wanted on the Juke. Fell in love with Bob Seger, CCR, Elvis… The good stuff.”_

 

The fact that this place seemed to have good memories for Dante, who so far had painted a bleak picture of his childhood, made Alex feel like a boulder had been pulled off his shoulders. He’d thought he’d been good at concealing any signs of stress this job brought on. To an extent, it was easy, as he didn’t age and couldn’t get gray hairs or wrinkles. Then it was times like these when he realized just how heavy everything was on a regular basis even if it didn’t show outwardly. If his partner was happy and having fun, then he was happy.

 

_“Well if it isn’t my sweet little blast from the past,”_

 

A moment later, as Alex finished off the blood he’d been sipping at, he’d felt as if someone had just stepped, no trampled, on his grave. It was as if that boulder, the heaviness of it, was stacked right back on top of him. It wasn’t danger or fear this time, really, the vampire was having a hard time putting his finger on why his figurative hackles were raised.

 

_“Isaac..? What… what are you doing here?”_

Alex felt his eyes narrow the barest fraction of an inch at the sound of some guy greeting his partner in such a familiar way — overly familiar at that. Glancing over Dante’s shoulder, Alex felt his face slip into something neutral, disinterested and bored looking as far as the world was concerned. He knew it shouldn’t bother him, really, because it wasn’t as if Dante was interested in Alex like that, but the guy wasn’t bad to look at and Dante seemed to know him... A small, distant part of Alex realized he might have been a bit jealous, just a little.

 

_“Well I’m a hunter, We do travel. Besides, I could ask you the same thing.”_

 

Didn’t this guy see Dante was at the bar with someone already? The audacity. The sheer fucking nerve of it all. It didn’t help that Dante wasn’t saying anything and the guy hadn’t left yet.

 

_“Who’s this now? New pet?”_

 

Alex just gave the stranger an unimpressed, disinterested look over Dante’s shoulder. If he were to be honest, he’d been called worse at various stages of his life. If he were to be even more honest, vampires more than likely said the same thing about Dante with regard to Alex. The vampire might have been slow when it came to modern lingo, pop culture and technology, but he was far from stupid. He’d already decided he didn’t like this Isaac person, regardless of who he was to Dante.

 

_“My partner,”_

 

The vampire felt the flicker of a smile at the edges of his lips, feeling a bit of pride as Dante finally spoke. His knight in not-so-shining armor.

 

_“Relax, firecracker, It’s good to see you again. Let’s catch up when I get back, yeah?”_

 

The sight of Isaac’s hand on Dante’s shoulder ruffled Alex’s feathers a bit, but he kept his expression neutral. He really didn’t like the idea of someone else’s scent — someone he personally didn’t like — on his partner. It was a rarity, given how little time they spent with other people.

 

_“Hunting. We’re in New York. Ground zero. The city’s a prime killing ground, you know. Of course I assume that’s why you’re here?”_

 

At Isaac’s words, Alex made a mental note to be a little more low key once he left the bar by himself. Not that he thought people would take a cheap shot at him once he was outside, but because he had forgotten hunters were still a danger to him. Normally with Dante at his side, it was less of an issue, it gave them pause enough for there to be an explanation. For all he knew, a lone vampire wandering New York was a prime target for shoot first, ask questions later. He wasn’t going to go looking for trouble, but it always seemed to find him.

 

_“Of course,”_

 

The look, the side glance accompanied by a lie, that Dante gave him was somewhat reassuring, but only because it was Dante and he just happened to have that effect on Alex.

 

_“Wow… I uh… Sorry. He can be kinda blunt I guess. He’s a witch. He helped me out when I first left the church.”_

 

“If you don’t mind me being a little bit blunt in turn? I don’t like him,” Alex said simply, a statement of fact. “I mean, I appreciate the fact that he helped you when you got away from those crazies, but I still can’t say he made the best first impression just now.”

 

Frowning a little, Alex felt as if the comfortable atmosphere was kind of lost now. Still, he wanted to wait around a little longer before heading out, for a number of reasons now. Part of it was separation anxiety, part of it was nerves, and lastly, Rafter wasn’t back yet.

 

“I completely forgot what we were talking about before,” he murmured. “I think it was music? Can we talk about that instead of...” he gestured vaguely, wanting something simple and easy.

 

~

 

_“I keep saying you could use more sleep..You could also afford to finish those. It’s not everyday we can get food that isn’t borderline expired out of a gas station or truck stop.”_

 

Dante couldn’t help but smile at the familiar admonishment, shaking his head at the vampire. “I ate like four,” he slightly exaggerated, “but you’re right. It’s better than truck stop food. I’m sure there’s gonna be plenty more stuffed down my throat before too long.” He couldn’t help being easily distracted from mundane things like eating. In the grand scheme of things it just felt like they had a lot of other things to worry about. Still, knowing how Rafter felt about food he doubted either of them would be going hungry during their stay.

 

_“You’re going to have to show me videos of these competitions... It sounds absolutely insane, but now I’m curious. I mean, strongman competitions existed when I was alive, but that was mostly a circus act and I don’t think they ever tried pulling trucks.”_

 

“Definitely not a circus trick,” the hunter agreed. “I’ll pull up YouTube later and show you. Some of the hunter’s around here swear he’s got old world Giant blood in him, but you know how rumors go. Talk is probably all it is.”

 

_“...To be honest, this is kind of nice...kind of like the other night before I stupidly let myself get ‘drugged’ and everything for the fun of it. Too bad they don’t have zombie shooting games, unless Rafter has a secret arcade hidden somewhere?”_

 

“It’s not like any of that was your fault,” Dante laughed, “and don’t jinx us. And unless he’s remodeled, no arcade... just pool and darts. Everyone’s a hustler round here though, just be careful who you play with.”

 

After their encounter with Isaac, which left much to be desired by way of civility, Dante was left with more questions than answers. He hadn’t expected to see the other man again maybe ever, and certainly not here. Not tonight.

 

_“If you don’t mind me being a little bit blunt in turn? I don’t like him...”_

 

“Goddamn. You’re so much cooler about shit than I am,” Dante marveled out loud with a relieved chuckle as slumped back against the bar top. “I have no idea how you do that.” He shook his head, leaning his elbow on the bar and turning his upper body towards Alex. “And yeah I think that’s a fair assessment considering what a dick he was. I probably would have popped him if I was you. Believe it or not, he can be pretty charismatic when he puts his mind to it.”

 

_“I completely forgot what we were talking about before... I think it was music? Can we talk about that instead of...”_

 

“Absolutely,” Dante turned back to the bar, trying to shake off the lingering weirdness of what had just happened. He was still reeling a little, having been ill-prepared to dig up that particular landmine field, and was grateful for any diversion. It sounded like Isaac would be staying at the guild for a while yet, so it wasn’t something he could avoid indefinitely even if he wanted to. For now...he’d take the out.

 

Feeling a little foolish for rattling on about old music made before he was even alive, Dante considered Alex for a moment. “You know he’s probably got some tunes in there you’d like, more turn of the century. Little Astaire or Billie Holliday maybe?” He knew the vampire tended to be almost ridiculously easy going when it came to the radio stations they played in the car, but if there was ever a time to be nostalgic it was now, back in the city where he’d once lived. “What did you listen to back in the day?”

 

Within a matter of minutes, Rafter reappeared at the swinging doors beside the bar. A petite woman accompanied him, her thick black hair styled into long, neat twists with gold clasps scattered throughout. She was wearing a hairdresser’s apron over a colorful two-piece dress, combs and shear handles poking out of the pockets. Beads of wood and glass hung in thick layers around her neck.

 

Rafter wasn’t exactly homely, but the years had definitely been rough on him. He looked like an old hunter, all ink and scars. Sadie by contrast was a flawless beam of sunlight, all color and spice and clear caramel skin. Dante’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and he made a questioning face at Rafter as the big man approached. The pair gave ‘she’s out of my league’ a new definition.

 

“Boys,” the big Irishman wrapped an arm around the gorgeous woman, all but dwarfing her, “meet my wife. Sadie, this is Dante and his partner. Alex, isn’t it?”

 

“Wow... you’re beautiful,” the words slipped out of Dante’s mouth before he could think about being a little more tactful, and he felt his face turn red.

 

Sadie laughed at his discomfort, the sound musical and almost otherworldly. She glided forward to wrap him in a hug, gentler than Rafter’s. Dante wasn’t entirely sure what to do, and it took him a moment to hug her back. Despite wearing a sleeveless garment, she was incredibly warm to the touch and smelled of incense and smoky wood. Like a bonfire on a beach. She pulled back and looked intently at him for a moment, like she already knew everything about him. It should probably have been unsettling, but somehow it wasn’t. Not at first.

 

“Sededja,” she finally clarified, “but we’ve all got a few names around here don’t we? Dante, I’ve heard so much,” she beamed at him, and the words were so loaded they made Dante squirm. Sadie looked at each of them like she knew them inside and out, every secret and shame. She spent a long moment just staring him right in the eyes like she was reading a book, and then mercifully turned her attention to Alex.

 

Dante didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he was released from her direct scrutiny and found himself letting it out through his nose, lungs burning. He looked away and caught Rafter staring after her with the same immense pride and love he had oozed when talking about his bar. It was oddly touching, seeing him so happy. It almost gave Dante hope for his own future... Hope layered under pain, fear, regret, and all the things he worried would keep him from ever seeing retirement. It was a complicated process.

 

Dante watched Sadie sweep in to hug Alex with the same intimate familiarity that seemed to be her way, apparently not concerned in the slightest that he wasn’t human.

 

“Alex. Aren’t you handsome,” she inspected him shamelessly, smiling like a Cheshire Cat. Clicking her tongue approvingly, she reached out and took Alex’s hands in both of her own perfectly manicured ones, turning his palms over and rubbing them with her thumbs for a long moment. “Oh, baby,” she looked up at him with a mixture of amusement and pity, before glancing over at Dante. She leaned in and in a conspiratorial voice hummed, “we’ll fix this later, won’t we?”

 

Dante frowned, unable to catch that last part and wondering what she had said to his partner. Anything he wasn’t supposed to hear made him nervous, especially now.

 

Without waiting for a response from the vampire Sadie moved away, slapping Rafter gently on the arm. “Arthur. Didn’t you feed them?”

 

Rafter spluttered, “of course I did! I tried anyways...” in a childish attempt to deflect, he lifted a big hand towards Dante. “The boy’s a stubborn mule, Sade.”

 

“Ach,” Sadie scolded him without any real venom, “I leave you up here alone for half an hour...”

 

Dante briefly considered defending Rafter and telling Sadie the big man had already tried to inflict death by buffalo wing upon him, but there didn’t appear to be any real danger.

 

“You two poor things,” Sadie returned her attention to Alex and the hunter. She propped her hands on her hips as she looked between the two of them like a scolding mother. “Arthur tells me you’ll be staying with us for a while. I like that. You need to rest, it’s been too long for the both of you.”

 

Dante didn’t even begin to question how she knew that. The woman radiated knowledge and power, like a goddess slumming it amongst mortals. He was still floored that Rafter had made such a major upgrade. His first wife had been... difficult. As a child Dante had been terrified of her temper.

 

“Well if he hasn’t already told you as much, the guild here is sealed and warded. You’ll be safe under this roof,” she somehow told them exactly what they needed to hear, “nothing will ill intent can pass through. I’m sure you saw one of my familiars upstairs. He keeps watch for us.”

 

Surprised, Dante thought of the unremarkable bouncer they’d passed standing at the door, and how strange it had seemed that he didn’t stop them to check for weapons and ID. “He’s... not human?” The hunter wondered aloud.

 

Sadie made a face and shrugged, “are any of us really human?” Like that explained everything. Her sharp eyes seemed to fixate after that on Dante’s chest, and the hunter slowly looked down to see what she was staring at. He hadn’t spilled anything on himself that he knew of. That would pretty much negate the entire point of getting new clothes.

 

“May I?” When Dante looked back up, Sadie was in front of him again. Unsure what exactly he was agreeing to, Dante simply nodded. He watched with great curiosity as she gently picked up the crucifix that hung from his neck, studying it carefully.

 

Looking over at Alex over her head, the hunter shrugged helplessly, wondering if he was the only confused one present. He felt quite distinctly that this was the witch’s world and the rest of them were just living in it.

 

“Hmmm.” Sadie let the crucifix settle back against Dante’s chest, patting her hand over it cryptically. The hunter felt a brief zap of what could only be static electricity. “That’s a very interesting piece, Dante. Love it.”

 

And just like that she was spinning away again. Dante tried very hard to keep his expression neutral, because ‘what the fuck was that about’ didn’t sound like an entirely appropriate response in the moment. He figured Alex would be proud of his restraint.

 

“Now I hate to do this to you beautiful boys, but I have a client in my chair downstairs. I have to run. We’ll finish this later, won’t we?” She pointed a finger at each of them, smiling knowingly once again before pulling Rafter down for a kiss. She vanished back into the depths of the bar downstairs, leaving Dante floundering for not the first time that day.

 

The hunter turned to Rafter, spreading his hands in astonishment. “No offense.... but how the fuck?”

 

Rafter had the good grace to look sheepish. “Beats me, kid. We met down on the coast, maybe almost two years back, kinda just happened. Really makes you wanna believe in a higher power, eh?”

 

“Or witchcraft,” Dante stared at the door after her, her presence lingering like a cloud of perfume. He somehow doubted it, but he couldn’t resist jabbing.

 

Even more than the endearing way Rafter’s eyes had followed her around the room, like a child watching a butterfly, he could sense it between them. There was an energy there, and Sadie’s eyes held no anger, no resentment or lies. He wasn’t sure how he could be so sure, but he was.

 

Harrumphing to himself awkwardly, Rafter wiped his palms on the bar towel hanging from his belt and went back behind the counter, pretending to engage in busy work as he moved some glasses around pointlessly.

 

“She’s amazing, Raf,” Dante took pity and told him, “honestly.” Turning to look at Alex first, and then back to the Irishman he added apologetically, “I mean especially by comparison. Angela was a nutcase.”

 

Rafter gave a pained grimace. “Aye, we all make our mistakes now don’t we...”

 

“We all hated her,” Dante clarified bluntly.

 

“Alright, alright now,” Rafter chuckled, seeming to be past his puppy-love nerves. “Ease off there. I got it right this time, eh? And apparently so have the two of you. Now I’ve gotta mind this bar for a few hours yet. I’ll get you set up in a room, and if you ain’t passed out by midnight we can sit down and catch up.”

 

“The two of us...?” Dante echoed, hoping he was just being dense about what he’d heard. “Wait what do you think we—“

 

Rafter was sliding a fresh glass in front of him, but past that he was already distracted by another patron waving him down at the other end of the bar. He bustled away without explaining himself.

 

“Okay. That was... weird,” Dante directed at his partner as he narrowed his eyes after the retreating Irishman. He was beginning to have a terrifying, sinking suspicion that Rafter had some kind of skewed idea of what the word partner meant, but he almost didn’t want to say it out loud, just in case he was reading into things.

 

~

 

“Some of the hunter’s around here swear he’s got old world Giant blood in him, but you know how rumors go. Talk is probably all it is.”

 

“I mean, talk has to originate from somewhere,” Alex shrugged, knowing sometimes that’s all it was, but it was a little late for them to not believe in the impossible.

 

“Everyone’s a hustler round here though, just be careful who you play with.”

 

“I’m more of a cards guy,” he said, giving Dante a knowing look, as if to say ‘I’m not going to be the one getting hustled.’ “...I kind of like the zombie game, back at the arcade, but then I figure the real thing would be more interesting.”

 

“Goddamn. You’re so much cooler about shit than I am, I have no idea how you do that.”

 

“Age mostly,” he replied nonchalantly. Age and years of being talked down to or outright insulted made it hard for a passing comment from one prick in the needlestack to get under his skin. What did bother him was the aforementioned prick getting handsy with his partner.

 

“And yeah I think that’s a fair assessment considering what a dick he was. I probably would have popped him if I was you.“

 

“...I’m sure I’d have done the same thing ninety odd years ago too,” the vampire admitted. “I probably would have gotten my ass handed to me, but...that’s the upside to mellowing out over the years.”

 

“Believe it or not, he can be pretty charismatic when he puts his mind to it.”

 

“Isn’t that what they say about most sociopaths?” Alex commented offhandedly, not wanting to admit he was still pretty ruffled even if he hid it well.

 

“What did you listen to back in the day?”

 

“It was different back then, music was a little less accessible than it is now,” the vampire started, briefly thinking back to a different era. “The microphone wasn’t even invented until the end of my life, to give you an idea of how different...”

 

For a long moment, Alex seemed lost in through. If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture a bar, not unlike this one, but almost a hundred years out of time. If he focused just a little more, he could see Vincent at the bar, Jimmy and Enzo nearby as well. David over at a dart board showing off... Alex shook his head, not wanting to chase after that figurative rabbit, not when he had a few stops to make tonight.

 

“I’m sorry, I kind of...” he sighed, knowing full well he had completely spaced out for a good minute. “It brings back memories. All of Me by Billie Holiday was a favorite of Vincent’s,” ‘of ours’ was what he wanted to say, and it remained unspoken.

 

Soon after, Rafter and Sadie thankfully appeared. Alex wasn’t sure how well he’d keep it together reminiscing before visiting a cemetery filled with his dead friends and family. Any melancholic thoughts he might have had fizzled up in an instant when his eyes fell on Sadie. It was hard to feel sad when the smell of warmth was wafting from the woman beside Rafter.

 

“Sadie, this is Dante and his partner. Alex, isn’t it?”

 

“Yes it’s Alex,” the vampire replied automatically.

 

“Wow... you’re beautiful,”

 

If Alex hadn’t known Dante wasn’t interested in women, he might have been jealous. As it was, he couldn’t help but find some amusement in his partner’s face turning red. While Isaac’s presence earlier had been like being doused in ice water, this was like sitting on a beach and watching Dante flail around in the sun heated water.

 

“Sededja, but we’ve all got a few names around here don’t we? Dante, I’ve heard so much,”

 

While Sadie’s attention was on Dante, Alex had a moment to process the situation. That being said, he came up with a ig blank, but felt at ease, a sharp contrast to a few minutes ago. Then, soon enough, Sadie’s attention on him now, a part of Alex felt as if he should be unnerved, but he wasn’t or perhaps he couldn’t bring himself to be. The feeling, a very unfamiliar one at that, of being pulled into a hug was strange. It was warm, pleasant even, if made him think of how being hugged by his mother would have felt.

 

“Alex. Aren’t you handsome. Oh, baby, we’ll fix this later, won’t we?”

 

For the millionth time, Alex was grateful he couldn’t blush, because he probably would have been just as red as Dante had been a bit ago. Feeling Sadie’s hands on his, he looked down curiously. It felt as if she was looking at something he couldn’t see and that was a little jarring in of itself, but he only felt confused at her words. There was a lot to fix when it came to him, even if it wasn’t always apparent to those around him. He couldn’t help but be glad Sadie didn’t press him for a response and instead turned to the matter of Dante not eating.

 

“You two poor things, Arthur tells me you’ll be staying with us for a while. I like that. You need to rest, it’s been too long for the both of you.”

 

Alex couldn’t have agreed more. It hadn’t been planned on their end, but it seemed as if staying here was the best option. It wasn’t as if they’d had anywhere else to go and personally Alex was more than happy to not be staying in a musty motel off the side of the interstate.

 

“Well if he hasn’t already told you as much, the guild here is sealed and warded. You’ll be safe under this roof, nothing will ill intent can pass through. I’m sure you saw one of my familiars upstairs. He keeps watch for us.”

 

The verbal confirmation that they were safe here was more than enough to put Alex’s remaining anxieties to rest. Being told it was safe here by anyone else hadn’t had that effect, but hearing Sadie say it made it more tangible. At the mention of a familiar, Alex felt his brows furrow in confusion as he tried to think of what or who, then he remembered the strange bouncer who hadn’t bothered to admire Dante’s handiness with making fake IDs.

 

“He’s... not human?” ... “are any of us really human?”

 

Alex looked over at Dante giving him a ‘well, she’s not wrong,’ kind of look. It wasn’t as if he suspected his partner might have had some dormant abilities or something, because how else would they have survived so far.

 

“Hmmm. That’s a very interesting piece, Dante. Love it.”

 

Alex most definitely would have been proud of Dante’s restraint, but right then he was thinking the same thing, but shrugged it off easily enough. Odd things happened, such was life, for them at least.

 

“Now I hate to do this to you beautiful boys, but I have a client in my chair downstairs. I have to run. We’ll finish this later, won’t we?”

 

Their encounter with Isaac earlier had left Alex more than a little flustered in a bad way and maybe even a bit jealous and angry. By contrast, he felt calm and safe, warm even despite his skin retaining the temperature of the air around him. As quickly as he’d decided he didn’t like Isaac, he was sure he liked Sadie.

 

“She’s amazing, Raf, honestly. I mean especially by comparison. Angela was a nutcase.”

 

All things considered, Alex suspected he was glad to not meet this Angela person. He also couldn’t agree more with Dante and he’d only met Sadie a few minutes ago. At the moment, Alex was immensely grateful Dante hadn’t made a bigger scene earlier when his father had been mentioned. With how things felt now, the idea of them being back out on the streets or anywhere else seemed like the worst outcome. That being said, Alex knew he’d have to step outside soon, much sooner than he would have liked.

 

“Okay. That was... weird,”

 

“What was weird?” Alex responded, somewhat oblivious to how ‘partner’ was taken in the modern era to sometimes mean something more intimate. “Anyway...”

 

He didn’t understand why it was so hard to stand up, say goodbye, and go out on his own for a few hours. Dante would be safe here, he knew that much, but the idea of leaving him, even for a few hours, was so strange and unusual. Sure, a few minutes, maybe half an hour here and there happened, but this was different.

 

“I really should get going, the night’s not going to last forever,” he said finally, standing, then pausing. “Oh, I should give you the keys, shouldn’t I?” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the keys to the car they were planning on eventually ditching. “I should be back in time to help move things, since it sounds like we’re staying here for now.”

 

There was yet another pause, Alex looking like he was trying to leave, but wanted to say something. Reaching out, he placed a hand on Dante’s shoulder, the one Isaac had touched earlier, then in a very uncharacteristic move, he pulled Dante in for a hug. As a general rule, Alex wasn’t a very touchy person, the only time he went out of his way to bump, brush up against, or touch people was when he had an ulterior motive. That or when they initiated it. Of course, he did want the close contact and to figuratively scrub the lingering scent of Isaac off of his partner, but he couldn’t let Dante know that.

 

Pulling back, Dante’s wallet in hand, Alex picked out one of the two credit cards they’d swiped. An apologetic smile hovered on his lips as he handed the wallet back to his partner.

 

“Couldn’t resist, also, Brooklyn’s a distance from here on foot,” he clarified, knowing taking a cab or something would be faster. “I might need a taxi to get back after, I guess I’ll see you later?”

 

~

 

Dante made a face at his partner when Alex gave him a pointed look about the ‘being human’ bit. It was the most ridiculous thing Alex had ever come up with by far. If Dante was anything besides plain, good old, home-grown human, he was positive he would have known it a long time before now. It was wishful thinking on Alex’s part at best he was sure. Maybe it was easier than thinking he had thrown his lot in with a simple human.

 

“What was weird?”

 

Dante was absolutely not explaining that one, especially since he was likely wrong about the subtext. He shook his head dismissively, and was thankful Alex didn’t push it.

 

“Anyway… I really should get going, the night’s not going to last forever.”

 

Dante was dragged back to the present abruptly with the reminder that Alex planned to set off. He wasn’t sure why he was so reluctant to see him go, besides the fact that they’d been joined at the hip for several years running and apparently their codependency had reached astronomical levels a long time ago. The thought embarrassed him, but did nothing to quell the urge to stop him from going.

 

The hunter was a breath away from offering to go with him, maybe even insisting on it, but he forced himself to snap his mouth shut. Instead he nodded slowly, determined to be silent before he said something he would regret later.

 

_“Oh, I should give you the keys, shouldn’t I? I should be back in time to help move things, since it sounds like we’re staying here for now.”_

 

A wave of emotion hit Dante like a freight train the second the keys were dropped into his hand, and he blinked against it. He finally recognized it… fear. He was terrified of watching Alex leave. He always had been, by varying degrees. The same part of him that knew, come hell or high water, he would always come crawling back to the vampire even on his dying breath, also deeply feared that one day Alex would leave and never return.

 

It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it? Even if one of their many enemies didn’t manage to pick him off by some stroke of luck while Dante wasn’t there to watch his back, the remaining option was worse. That someday, Alex would inevitably grow tired of dragging around a plain old human. In his mind he knew it was only a matter of waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

Lost in the despair of his own dark thoughts, the hunter was completely taken aback when he was suddenly pulled into a hug. He returned it fiercely, gripping Alex as tight as he dared before his brain even caught up. He had no idea what it meant but it scared him. Alex smelled like a fresh forest, even under the scent of new clothes. For a briefly illogical moment, he wished that this wasn’t a rare thing for them. It felt like he needed more, and that was a dangerous path to wander down. The hunter pulled away reluctantly, glad the moment was broken by Alex basically playing pickpocket.

 

“Asshole,” Dante shot back mildly, grabbing his wallet out of Alex’s hand.

 

_“Couldn’t resist, also, Brooklyn’s a distance from here on foot.. I might need a taxi to get back after, I guess I’ll see you later?”_

 

“Yeah,” Dante’s voice was rough but he was desperately trying to play it cool. “Keep your phone on, okay?” He felt like he should say more, every worst-case scenario screaming through his head in double-time. Instead he dug his fingers into the healing cut on his palm until it burned, and dipped his head. “Be careful.”

 

Dante slowly reclaimed his seat at the bar, watching Alex leave with a heavy sense of dread. And maybe that was exactly why they needed to spend a few hours doing their own thing, because it was so hard to do exactly that.

 

When he turned around Rafter had appeared across the bar from him, polishing a mug and watching Alex leave with a smile Dante was positive he didn’t like. He raised his eyebrows silently at the bigger man, waiting for him to say whatever was clearly on his mind.

 

“You two are so…” Rafter sighed happily, obviously trying to find the word, “just so sweet together. Really warms my heart.”

 

“Rafter,” Dante growled slowly, glaring at the man through narrowed eyes, “what the hell are you talking about?”

 

“You two,” Rafter said simply, polishing that dumb mug like it was the holy grail.

 

Dante stared blankly, hoping against god and the universe that this was still some kind of huge misunderstanding. “Raf, listen to me carefully. I think you have the wrong idea, do you get what I’m saying?”

 

“Dante, you don’t have to do that boy,” Rafter looked endlessly amused, “this is me you’re talking to. I don’t care that you’re gay.”

 

Dante physically flinched at that word. “Oh my god. Fuck. Please don’t call it that.”

 

“I’m just saying, my Uncle Tommy was gay as woodpecker, and I loved him like I did my own father. He taught me to hunt you know. Well, him and Uncle Benny and Uncle Dee, but--”

 

“Hey!” Dante slammed his palm down on the bar to try to get the bigger man’s wandering attention, “stop it! It’s not like that okay? Alex isn’t… I mean, we’re not like that, okay?”

 

Rafter tipped his head down and raised both eyebrows, looking thoroughly skeptical.

 

“Holy shit,” Dante sighed, swiping the whiskey glass off the counter. With Alex off in the wind, he didn’t feel his usual need for sobriety. And if anything could get him drinking, it was this topic. He took three long gulps, screwing up his face as it burned on the way down.

 

“Figured you’d have learned to hold your liquor by now,” Rafter was laughing deep in his chest. “Now Dante, don’t get all prickly on me here. I know your dad wouldn’t have liked it, so maybe you don’t wanna talk about it but--”

 

“No,” Dante held up a finger in warning, “No. You gotta stop talking about him too, get me? He’s dead, and I’m fucking glad he is. Took me a decade and a half of worshiping him to realize I shoulda been hating him and now I’m making up for lost time, okay? So enough with that.”

 

That was apparently enough to shut Rafter up, and Dante took the blessedly peaceful moment to shut his eyes, take a deep breath, and try to compose himself. He tried again, determined to put it as simply as possible. “Look, I’m not talking about who we prefer to sleep with individually… separately. That’ another story. I’m saying Alex doesn’t see me like that, at all.”

 

“Yes he does.” Rafter disagreed, his beard bobbing up and down on his chest as he nodded enthusiastically.

 

Dante groaned, rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. It was clear that whatever Rafter was misinterpreting, he had it so deeply embedded in his brain that any protests from Dante were just going to look like deflection.

 

“Rafter, please. For christsakes, he’s my partner. You have got to stop making these comments and looks and… and everything. I mean all of it. You’re going to freak him out. You’re freaking me out.”

 

Rafter held up both massive hands in a placating gesture, but Dante was still worried he wasn’t being taken seriously. “Alright then, don’t go getting yourself all fired up. Point I was trying to make is, when you find something like that, it’s one in a million. Gotta hold onto it, tight. I’m just happy you ain’t alone. With your temperament, figured it’d be a snowball’s chance in hell anyone would ever snatch you up. No offense... You ain’t exactly a teddy bear.”

 

Dante wanted to smash his head into the bar to put himself out of his misery. Ruling that out as an immediate option, he instead pushed his now-empty glass towards Rafter. The refill was quick.

 

“Just... don’t bring it up again, please…” Dante was defeated, but needed it said out loud. Just so he could say he tried. “It’s not gonna go well.”

 

“Drink,” Rafter instructed gently by way of response, “do you some good. Wound tighter than a bowstring.”

 

As the Irishman wandered off Dante sat there in silence for a few minutes just staring into space, listening to the hustle and bustle of the guild carrying on behind him. To the laughter of other hunters, who he should have felt such kinship with if things had been different. To the soft clink of glasses and bottles. To the deep hum of Rafter singing quietly to himself, badly off-key. He so badly wanted to disappear into the floor, or run after Alex and make sure he didn’t get himself killed. If he was being honest, the second urge was stronger. He thought of the way Alex smelled with his arms wrapped around him, and how much it meant to him to feel that.

 

Rafter jumping to conclusions didn’t exactly surprise him, but it was concerning. The giant ran on optimism and beer, and had survived as long as he had that way simply because he hadn’t yet met anything strong enough to kill him. It wasn't difficult for him to see what he wanted to see, but it terrified Dante that Rafter’s little misunderstanding would get around to Alex. The thought of what it could to to them if Alex ever figured out that it wasn’t even entirely false… It was enough to make him sick to his stomach.

 

Looking down at his glass, he studied the amber liquid inside. Maybe Rafter was right. He needed to drink.

  
~

 

_“Yeah. Keep your phone on, okay?”_

 

“I always do,” Alex responded easily, “call me if you need anything,” he added a moment later. “And I mean anything, even if it’s emotional support when you realized how much you drank.”

 

_“Be careful.”_

 

“When am I not?” With that, Alex had disappeared through the masses crowding the bar, pausing only briefly once he was at the exit. Glancing over his shoulder, he took in the sight of Dante sitting at the bar by himself and it took everything to turn his head back around and drag himself up the stairs.

 

It was easier once Alex wasn’t looking at the one person in the world he didn’t want to walk away from, even for a little while. As the vampire reached the street above and the crisp autumn air hit him, he realized he missed the warmth, the scent of leather and smoke that clung to Dante. They hadn’t really touched much, now that Alex thought about it. There had been times when he’d wanted to, but had always worried Dante would think it was too much, so he didn’t. The more the vampire thought about it, the more he realized he was maybe a bit touch-starved and maybe literal human contact would be nice once in a while. Given that his partner was human, or mostly anyway, it was just a matter of how much contact was appropriate without making things weird or scaring Dante off.

 

Not wanting to take much time, really wanting to get back to Dante as soon as possible, Alex hailed a cab outside the bar. Another reason he went as far as to get a ride to Brooklyn was he might have been a little on edge given their earlier interaction with Isaac. Not that he expected that particular hunter might be a problem, but rather it had been a reminder. Despite what he did, hunting and killing his own kind, even aiding human hunters, that hadn’t changed that he was a vampire. Right now, he was a vampire who had just left the neutral zone and ‘being careful’ involved more than evading other monsters.

 

~~~

 

The ride from Queens to Brooklyn, specifically to the neighborhood he’d lived with Vincent in the last few years of his life as a mortal, had been roughly thirty minutes. Thirty minutes wasn’t long, but it reminded Alex that he’d need an hour in total for transport between the two places. It was one of those little things he had to keep track of, lest he end up stranded during the day. He supposed if that did happen he could just call Dante to pick him up, but he didn’t like the idea of making the hunter pay for his mistakes.

 

After using the twice stolen credit card to pay for the cab fare, Alex stepped out onto the street. It was dark out and few people were milling around this neighborhood at this hour. Glancing up and down the street, Alex suspected if he wasn’t a deathly pale white guy in new clothes, he might have had the cops called on him. This was a nice neighborhood, it always had been, that was the very reason Vincent had bought the place around Alex’s twenty-first birthday. The twin silver daggers had been their equivalent of an engagement and wedding ring rolled into one, but the upscale brownstone in a nice neighborhood in Brooklyn was something else entirely.

 

“Vin, you know I can’t give you kids, right?” Alex recalled himself asking jokingly when Vincent had presented him with a house much too big for two ‘bachelors’ living together. “What are we going to do with all this space?”

 

It hadn’t been odd, back then, for two of them to live together. For all the world, it was a regular Holmes and Watson situation. Others didn’t think anything of it, after all, Alex had lived with Vincent and his extended family for years since he was taken in by them. Anyone who knew the truth of the matter was smart enough not to say anything, lest it get back around to Vincent.

 

Alex was well aware since he was ten until the end of his life that some people hadn’t wanted him to be so intertwined with Vincent or the family business. In the beginning, he knew there were distant cousins of Vincent, nieces and nephews too, who took a particular disliking to Vincent adopting some kid from the Lower East Side. They were all set to potentially inherit anything he might leave behind and Vincent, despite enjoying solving problems with his fists, was amazing at business and finance. That being said, it hadn’t been strange for Alex to encounter some hostility, though that was quickly dealt with by Vincent once he heard just what people were saying.

 

Despite people calling him a charity case behind his back, it hadn’t really bothered him. After all, he’d been forced to grow a thick skin quickly before then growing up in the Lower East Side with an abusive father. When him and Vincent got together, as in together together, Alex suspected people had even worse things to say about him, but that was neither here nor there. All that mattered to Alex was that they were together and happy and the rest of the world could have burnt for all he cared.

 

In some ways, Alex wondered if scraping by in rags and cheap motels was his penance for the excessive wealth he’d been surrounded by in the last few years of his life. In other ways, he wondered if his unrequited attraction to Dante was penance for how he and Vincent carried on, building a life on a foundation of blood, corpses, and violence. It was times like these, standing in front of a house he once lived a happy life in, when he wondered if he was even the same person he’d once been. Even now, Alex knew he wouldn’t have been able to tolerate his mortal self, all selfishness and wants without a care in the world for who got hurt.

 

Looking at the house, it occurred to Alex there was a family living there. They were all asleep of course, the lights were off, save for the front porch. If he focused hard enough he could sense the signs of life inside. A pang of sorrow hit him suddenly, he could never go back. He’d walked through that front door, storming down the steps and down the road, not realizing at the time what was in store for him. If he could have gone back in time, knowing the misery Nikolai would inflict on him, he’d have screamed at himself to stay. Knowing now that one day he’d meet Dante, knowing all that he did about their adventures and misadventures, he’d have dragged himself down the road and tossed himself into Nikolai’s arms himself if he knew the outcome.

 

It was strange, a part of himself longed for the past, for Vincent, his normal, selfish mortal life, growing old with someone he loved. Now though, he wanted his stupid, amazingly perfect, idiotic hot-headed partner, even if he knew a happy ending was unlikely for them, no matter how he looked at it. Shaking his head, Alex forced himself to move, knowing that eventually someone might look outside and get suspicious of some strange man standing on the sidewalk.

 

The vampire started walking down the length of road, following the very footsteps he’d taken when he’d left in a huff that fateful night all those years ago. Thinking to himself, Alex wondered how Vincent might have felt. Had he expected Alex to stumble in hours later after cooling off? Knowing him, Alex suspected Vincent must have panicked when Alex hadn’t come home the next day. It hurt, to imagine Vincent doing everything in his power to track him down as days turned to weeks, turned to months, then into years and decades. The vampire wondered then when Vincent gave up, or if he ever gave up on finding him. As much as Alex liked to think Vincent gave up and moved on, in his heart of hearts he doubted it.

 

A good ways down the road, in an area where at the time no one would have seen anything, Alex paused at the very spot he’d been when Nikolai had snatched him up and dragged him off into the night. He’d been helpless, caught off guard, stupid, so very stupid for even leaving and being unable to defend himself against anyone or anything. Once or twice, he’d wondered, if his hand hadn’t been wounded so severely, if he could have driven one of his daggers through the ancient vampire’s heart and ended him that night.

 

With a heavy sigh, Alex kept walking. The ink was well and truly dry, what had been done was done and no amount of wishing or wondering would change how things ended. He supposed it might be a tragedy, the end of his life as a human, but was it really a tragedy if he found some sort of happiness or will to live in the end? Looking up at the night sky, still walking, Alex wished Dante were here with him.

 

~~~

 

The walk to Green-Wood Cemetery wasn’t a terribly long one, it certainly gave Alex time to ponder. There was also an element of dread, knowing he’d be confronted with the sight of the graves of people he’d loved at one point or another. Vincent, he knew, would be the worst. Back when they’d been together, knowing how violent and short life could be if one misstepped, Vincent had bought two burial plots. One for himself, obviously, and one for Alex, should either of them meet an untimely end, they’d at least be together in death. Alex knew where the plots were and was a bit anxious thinking of what might have happened with the plot his body was meant to occupy. There was a slight feeling of worry and jealousy that Vincent might have found someone else, though the thought of him growing old and dying alone was just as miserable.

 

Once Alex made it to the gates of the cemetery, he realized they were locked. Not only that, he only knew where Vincent was meant to be buried. It was doubtful he’d be able to locate the graves of every friend he’d ever had, though he knew at least he’d have to try to find David, if nothing else. Climbing over the gates easily, Alex jumped down on the other side, barely making any sound as his feet hit the soft, grassy earth.

 

He started walking, deciding he’d visit Vincent first, since that was the only gravesite he knew the location of, while the others were a mystery to him. It was when he was walking down a dimly lit path that he caught sight of a figure standing in the middle of it, watching him. For a brief moment, Alex panicked, thinking it was any of the number of enemies Dante and himself had made, or a hunter stalking him.

 

“Whoa, hey,” the figure said, holding his hands up, an easy smile sliding into place. “Didn’t mean to freak you out that badly, I’m Gabriel by the way,” the figure stepped a little closer. “Not like, archangel Gabriel or anything, Gabe Genovese, the great-grandson of David Genovese, in case you were wondering.”

 

The vampire stood motionless for a long moment, confused rather than paranoid now. Breathing in the air, Alex noted that the boy in front of him smelled vaguely of baked goods and sugar, something like a bakery maybe, all warmth and sweetness. There was also no feelings of danger, or malice, if anything, Alex felt as if he’d just run into an old friend he’d never met before. Maybe in a bizzare, roundabout way, he had. Of course, he sure as hell hadn’t expected to run into the descendant of one of his closest friends here and now of all places, least of all like this.

 

“I’m...sorry? I don’t think I understand what’s going on here,” Alex admitted, feeling a bit lost.

 

“Well, yeah, my dude, you’re late,” Gabe said, grinning widely now. “Kept me waiting long enough, I was going to be all dramatic and mysterious, maybe even throw in an old story I grew up with from David while you were getting weepy over a headstone, but...” the boy frowned a little, as if thinking.

 

“You’re not a witch, are you?” Alex asked plainly.

 

“My guy, the best I can do is shitty card tricks and only because when I was 13 I thought girls would like ‘em,” was the reply Alex got. “Nah, not a witch, I get these dreams and...flashes of things, danger usually right before it happens though. I’m not omniscient, which sucks major ass, but... Anyway, enough about me, wanna visit my great-grandfather’s grave before we head to Vincent’s?”

 

Sighing, Alex decided now wasn’t the night to argue with witches or alleged psychics.

 

“Lead the way,” he said, deciding this was probably his best chance at finding Dave’s gravesite anyway.

 

“Sure thing, boss,” Gabe said with a cheeky grin as he started down one of the many winding paths, eventually bringing them to a headstone. It was nice, ornate and even in the dim light he could tell it had been cared for over the years.

 

“Given that you’re here, I take it he settled down and started a family?” Alex intoned, already knowing the answer as he crouched down, running his gloved fingers over the inscriptions.

 

It had been a gut punch to realize David had lived to be 97 years old, having died relatively recently. Initially, he hadn’t noticed, but Alex could feel himself tearing up. It hadn’t been until now he realized just how much he missed his oldest friend. Dave and him had been close, so close that if things with Vincent hadn’t taken off, Alex could have easily seen himself falling for Dave. Alex barely stifled a harsh sob by sticking his fist over his mouth, desperately wishing he were alone right now. Thankfully, Gabe seemed to understand the gravity of the moment and remained silent.

 

After Alex regained his composure, trying desperately not to imagine Dave’s sunlight filled, lazy smile or the way he’d sometimes show off. It wasn’t until Alex was older that he realized who and what Dave was showing off for, but by then he was already hopelessly in love with his mentor and guardian. If things had been different, if Dave had been more forthcoming...

 

Standing up, Alex reminded himself of an all-important truth that came with all of his memories, good and bad. The ink was dry, what had already been written was written and could be revisited, but never changed. Wiping at his face with the backs of his sleeves, Alex wished he’d brought tissues, knowing how this would go. He was almost dreading visiting Vincent’s grave now, but he had to, even if it was just for a sense of closure, to put old ghosts to rest. The vampire didn’t want to spend forever dwelling on what could have been with dead men, not when he had Dante right in front of him, even if that went nowhere.

 

“You okay there?” Gabe asked suddenly, a warm hand on Alex’s shoulder, the question obviously rhetorical given the situation.

 

The vampire nodded, not trusting his voice to remain steady. Without another word, Gabe gently tugged the vampire along, back towards the main path. Alex knew the way this time, and almost wanted to ask Gabe to let him do this alone, but something stopped him. Rather than insist on being left to weep and sob over all that he’d lost and missed, he went along with Gabe, letting the boy lead the way. Once again, Alex wanted Dante there with him, but didn’t want his partner see him go to pieces.

 

Soon enough, maybe too soon for his liking, they arrived at the familiar spot where Vincent had arranged for them to be buried when they finally died. Alex almost regretted he couldn’t join him, he was glad he’d have at least Dante’s lifetime left before he joined anyone in death. The vampire didn’t even look at the headstone next to Vincent’s, terrified he’d see another’s name. There was no reason to be jealous of a dead man or woman, and yet... The idea that Vincent might have found someone else hurt in a way that made every other pain he’d felt pale in comparison.

 

Approaching Vincent’s grave, while Gabe stood a bit back, Alex dropped to his knees in front of the headstone. Tears were falling freely now and he hated himself for crying like this, knowing Vincent would have chided him over it. Still, he couldn’t help it, even if the sting of losing Vincent was decades old, it felt raw and painful now as he read over the inscription on the tombstone. It appeared Vincent had lived a decently long life, not as long as Dave, but long enough. Alex silently hoped he’d been happy, though he doubted his current self would agree with the things Vincent had done in life.

 

After all of his tears were spent, Alex stood again, knowing he couldn’t bear to see another grave tonight. He turned, ready to leave, when he felt Gabe’s hand on his arm, stopping him in his tracks. He looked up curiously into honey brown eyes and a warm smile. Generations apart, this kid did resemble his ancestor in this at least.

 

“You should read the grave next to his,” he said, Alex wanted to protest, to argue, to leave, but there was something about the look in Gabe’s eyes that made him turn and walk back to the grave he’d assumed belonged to his replacement.

 

**Alexander G. Harrison**

December 13, 1900 - January 1st, 1925

_Your goodbye left me with eyes that cry_

_How can I go on dear without you_

_You took the part that was once my heart_

_So why not take all of me_

 

There was a long moment of silence as Alex took in the headstone. A familiar set of verses stared back at him and as he read the dates, he surmised that he was assumed to have died. That or he was simply declared dead after no one had heard from or seen him in over a year. The simple fact that his grave was beside Vincent’s left him feeling lighter, warm even, it gave him hope that Vincent hadn’t tossed him or his memory aside the moment he stormed out of their house all those years ago.

 

“Thank you, Gabe,” he said after a moment, knowing he probably needed to see this at least to finally answer that one nagging feeling he’d always had.

 

“So...tomorrow, we’re going to have to dig your grave up,” Gabe said, looking kind of sheepish. “Obviously there isn’t a body down there, and I’d be thrilled to do it tonight, but I have an exam to study for, so I’m thinking I can give you my number,” Gabe pulled a slip of paper out of his pocket, name, number, and a little ‘call me’ already written out as he handed it to Alex. “Just call me tomorrow and we can work out the deets,” he said, not at all bothered with the idea of casually robbing a grave. “Oh, don’t forget to bring your boyf- I mean, your partner,” the grin on Gabe’s face indicated the slip up was mildly intentional. “I have three shovels and I’d rather not be busting ass while that hunter of yours is sitting on his.”

 

The vampire just stared for a long moment, his head jumbled with so many emotions and thoughts that he wasn’t prepared to sort through. He never thought he’d be robbing a grave, certainly not his own grave at that, and yet here he was, reaching out and accepting the number scrawled on a bit of paper. He’d input it later when he had the patience to deal with the buttons on his flip phone.

 

“I guess I’ll walk you out of here?” Alex said after a moment, wondering how Gabe was planning on getting out with the gates locked, unless he’d already anticipated Alex helping him over them.

 

“Sure, Imma catch an Uber home once we’re out, did you want any help with getting back to that bar?” Gabe asked, a knowing look in his eye. “That card of yours is going to decline, I can feel it.”

 

The vampire sighed, “I knew I should have grabbed the cash instead,” he muttered.

 

~~~

 

In the end, Gabe called an Uber for him, though Alex had been confused about the entire process. Getting into a stranger’s car was odd, but since it was already apparently paid for, all he had to do was get in, then get out at his destination. Unfortunately, the ride was a bit awkward with the driver making small talk, asking way too many questions — some of which were personal — and ending the ride by insistently trying to give his number to Alex.

 

Not wanting trouble, Alex accepted a second bit of paper, the back of a fortune cookie fortune, with a number scrawled on it. The driver had asked for his number, but Alex lied and said his phone broke, which made sense, given someone else called the Uber for him. Trying to politely end the interaction, Alex eventually got out and hurried across the road to the bar, slipping in and following the same path as before. It seemed roughly three hours had passed since he was last here. Three hours without Dante had been more difficult than it should have been and Alex wasn’t looking forward to doing that again anytime soon.

 

Appearing at the bottom of the stairs, Alex tried to track down Dante. It was dumb and irrational, but he wouldn’t be sure Dante was safe and okay unless he saw him in person. For all he knew his stubborn hunter might have run outside to do something outrageous like take on a coven of vampires alone while he was gone.

 

~

 

Dante wasn’t sure how much time passed, but there was something therapeutic about sitting there at the old bar and making small talk with the the old Irishman. Other patrons came and went from the bar, some trying to engaged him in conversation, others smart enough not to bother. The hunter checked his phone compulsively, not sure if he was disappointed or not when it remained silent and dark.

 

Kenny Rogers’ “The Gambler” came on over the speakers, and Dante felt his mood slip. It had always been one of his favorite songs. He wished Alex was there to listen with him.

 

Dante kept drinking. He was now at the point of intoxication where he was hellbent on putting 120% effort into appearing sober, a pastime that was taking a lot more willpower than expected. Another bartender probably would have cut him off a long time ago, but Rafter believed firmly in the power of free will and allowing a man to drink himself senseless to prove a point.

 

Sadie returned upstairs before too long, bringing with her that same spinning aura of light and music that had so fascinated him earlier. It wasn’t hard to see why Rafter was so smitten. Calm and lighthearted as she was, the woman was a force of nature. She spent some time helping Rafter behind the bar, and Dante distantly noted the pair had the same kind of easy partnership Rafter had never shared with his ex-wife. It was endearing to watch her scold and instruct him, and him follow her directions like a puppy.

 

When Sadie seemed satisfied that the place wouldn’t burn down without her direct supervision, she circled the counter and came to sit next to Dante. She raised an eyebrow at his drink, and then reached across the counter for a bottle to pour one of her own.

 

Dante stared at her, something prodding gently at the edges of his awareness. If he focused it felt like he could see her face change and shift, blurred like a mirage. Unfamiliar faces with the same eyes shifting and morphing from one to the other. Masks.

 

“It’s rude to stare, baby,” she told him without sounding offended in the slightest.

 

“She told me the same thing when we met,” Rafter interjected helpfully.

 

“I did,” Sadie beamed at him lovingly, “and you kept on staring.”

 

Rafter shrugged, unashamed. “Oh, I think it worked out for me din’it?”

 

“How old are you?” Dante asked out of the blue, and was just with it enough to realize that was partly the alcohol to blame.

 

Sadie didn’t seem surprised by the random question and met his gaze. Her eyes were perpetually smiling, like she saw secrets everywhere she looked. “How old do you think I am?” It wasn’t really a challenge, more curiosity.

 

“937,” Dante said without hesitation without thinking about it. He blushed immediately and mumbled into his glass, “give or take...”

 

Thanks, whiskey.

 

For the first time Sadie looked surprised, her eyebrows shooting up. Dante watched the changing faces flickering across her features fade for a moment. The witch looked over the counter at Rafter questioningly.

 

“I didn’t tell him,” the Irishman defended himself, “I know better than to tell a woman’s age.”

 

“You’re more perceptive than you look, sweetheart,” Sadie’s voice was soothing.

 

“Wait...” Dante was a little slower than usual, his brain sluggish. “What, you’re saying you’re almost a thousand years old? That was just a random guess.”

 

“This body isn’t,” Sadie explained with the casual air of someone discussing the weather, “I think it turned 33 a few years ago. The first time I was born was long before the men of this hemisphere started tracking the passage of time, not like they do now. No way to know the exact year. So your guess is closer than you think. Might even be right on the mark.”

 

“The first time...” Dante was grasping slowly at pieces of a puzzle. He felt like they were all laid out in front of him, he was just slowly trying to figure out what they formed. “Your faces... you reincarnate?”

 

Sadie chuckled, reaching across the short distance between them to run her hand through Dante’s hair like she was petting an animal. It was a strange feeling, but not an unpleasant one.

 

“Arthur, baby... you didn’t tell me the boy was gifted.”

 

“I... I didn’t know,” Rafter marveled, and Dante looked over to see the redhead staring at him in surprise.

 

“What are you talking about,” Dante was badly behind the curve, and possibly a little more drunk than he wanted to admit. Nothing seemed to be making sense.

 

“You’re seeing glimpses of my past forms, aren’t you,” Sadie pressed, studying him.

 

“I don’t know what I’m seeing,” even drunk, Dante wasn’t jumping to conclusions. “I think I’m just not used to drinking,” he tipped his glass apologetically.

 

“Looks like alcohol loosens you up,” Sadie smiled widely and crossed her legs, “opens up the third eye, or whatever you Americans call it in your religion.”

 

Shaking his head helplessly, Dante resigned himself to confusion. “Seeing weird shit? I think we mostly call it mental illness.”

 

“That’s just humans being narrow-minded,” Sadie replied dismissively. She held up her pilfered bottle in offering, and Dante hesitated only a moment before holding out his glass. The witch looked pleased and filled him up.

 

“Very raw,” she mused aloud, “this talent of yours. It’s what happens when you live a life ruled by denial. You can never quite trust your instincts. Not fully.”

 

Dante was too buzzed to argue, still swirling his drink in the glass absently.

 

“Of course, it wasn’t enough to help you to recognize you were being tracked.”

 

Dante jerked his eyes up, her face still swimming in his vision. “What?”

 

Taking his shock in stride, Sadie reached over and again fingered the silver crucifix around his neck. She was incredibly close to him, like personal space wasn’t something she recognized. He would have been more worried about breathing the same air as Rafter’s wife if he’d been sober. And of course if the man wasn’t dead certain he was gay, apparently.

 

“It’s an old spell,” she murmured, eyes fixed on the piece of jewelry. As close as he was to her, Dante could count every eyelash. “Every priest carries one. It’s not inherently religious, though it became so over the years.” She pressed it gently back against his shirt, leaning back only a fraction of an inch. “It was so they could find the hunter’s body if he was killed.”

 

Alarmed, Dante wrapped his hand around the silver pendant, his mind racing. “They’ve been tracking us, all this time? With this?”

 

“They were. I cleansed it, you can relax,” Sadie seemed amused by his panic.

 

“How? Just by touching it?”

 

“Dante,” the hunter looked over, having forgotten that Rafter was listening to their entire conversation. The bartender was frowning. “It’s been a minute since you left... why now? Why is the brotherhood tracking you?”

 

Dante looked at him and swallowed, fear knotting heavy in his gut. He thought briefly of lying, or dodging the question or delaying it. He knew it didn’t matter what he said, the truth would come out eventually. He looked back and forth between Sadie and Rafter, and both were watching him expectantly.

 

“Because of Alex,” he responded plainly, “because I’m with him. And they’re not even the only ones hunting us.” He paused, breathing shakily, “one of the brotherhood came after us last night, tried to take Alex. Shot at me. I killed him.” The admission was heavy, like pleading guilty in the face of a death sentence. He felt his throat closing up against his best efforts, thinking of tattoos and blood.

 

Rafter’s face clouded darkly, and for a heart-stopping moment Dante felt real fear. He was certain the Irishman was about to boot them to the curb on the spot. The hunter felt a cold chill.

 

“I’m sorry, Raf,” Dante choked out, “I just didn’t know where else to go—“

 

“You ain’t going anywhere else, boy, so sit your ass right there and finish your drink,” Rafter sternly cut him off. “We’ll figure this out when your partner gets back... and when you’re on your feet.”

 

Dante nodded shakily, his nerves still getting the best of him. He hated that he had nowhere else to run, no plan B. Worst of all was putting someone else in the crosshairs, not that he doubted Rafter’s ability to take care of himself.

 

“Listen here,” Rafter made sure he had Dante’s full attention before he spoke. “It ain’t easy to take on one of yer own. I know you did what you had to. But from here on anything coming for you through those doors has gotta come through me first, ya hear me?”

 

Dante only had the strength to nod, his eyes burning.

 

Rafter glanced at his wife and then conceded, “well, through us. You get ma point. The guild has grown stronger than you know over the years, my boy. Ain’t nothing dumb enough to siege this castle anymore.”

 

Dante desperately hoped that was true.

 

“Where’s your gear at?” Rafter seemed content to save the task of dissecting that particular bombshell for another time, “know you didn’t bring much in with ya.”

 

“Shit,” Dante had completely forgotten he’d planned to clean out the car before Alex got back. “We jacked a car, it’s all in there. Gotta find a place to dump that too...”

 

“Keys,” Rafter held out one massive hand, palm-up. “Give ‘em here.”

 

Dante obeyed sullenly.

 

“The missus will show you your room, I’ll get one ‘a my boys to help me unload yer kit.” Rafter seemed to be taking everything remarkably in stride.

 

“You don’t have to do that,” Dante protested, and was silenced by a dirty look.

 

“Wasn’t asking,” the Irishman retorted. “I mean it. No work tonight, no more talkin’ and plannin’. Next twenty-four hours you boys are gonna rest.” There was no room left for argument.

 

Even drunk, Dante balked at the idea. The hunter had a hard time sparing three or four hours for something as useless as sleep; he couldn’t even fathom taking an entire day. He was outmanned and outclassed in this battle however, and he knew it.

 

“Come on baby,” Sadie tugged him to his feet and looped her arm through his until they were linked at the elbow, “you can bring that bottle with you if you like.”

 

Dante did like. He was already pretty far gone, and didn’t feel like losing his buzz anytime soon. With Alex gallivanting around the city alone, it seemed the only way to remain sane. He grabbed it in his free hand and listened to Sadie chuckle.

 

“I’ll let it slide tonight, but tomorrow we’re getting some real food into your belly. You need to keep up your strength for your partner,” Sadie told him as she lead him through the winding dark hallways, “we have blood here, but it’s not unlimited.”

 

She knew, Dante supposed, that Alex had fed from him recently. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how, and found he didn’t want to know. He was distracted by the darkly colorful walls of the passageways around him, punctuated by old portraits and eccentric tapestries. The walls were lit at sparse intervals by dim yellow sconces or dangling chandeliers from eras past.

 

“I don’t remember any of this,” he marveled aloud as they walked, taking flights of stairs and endless twists and turns he knew he would never remember in the morning.

 

“You could say we’ve fixed the place up, done some remodeling.”

 

Dante had a feeling there hadn’t been much “we” involved in that process, but he couldn’t complain. The old brick and cement walls of his memory were colorless and cracked, not exactly welcoming. More prison cells with a cheap nightly tag than actual rooms. Rafter’s first wife hadn’t been a willing participant in the bar-owning venture and had made little effort to assist in the day-to-day business of things, and the lack of a woman’s touch had been apparent.

 

An emerald green door marked with a blurred number was the next thing that swam into focus, and while he was still trying to read the sign Sadie inserted a large brass key and pushed it open. He followed her in, swaying on his feet as she released his arm and flitted across the room to light a half-dozen scattered candles.

 

The warm room was somehow spacious and sprawling, while cozy and almost cramped all at the same time. A single large bed on the far end was strewn with patterned blankets and countless pillows, a headboard that looked straight out of another century looming over it. On the floor near the door was a circular sitting area filled with cushions and low tables. All the furniture appeared to be found or refurbished, no one thing matching another perfectly. Everywhere there were splashes of mixed metals and textured fabrics, lending a strange Victorian bohemian vibe to the room. The walls that weren’t made of hewn raw stone were painted in dark colors, shades of deep navy and royal purple.

 

“This is a hotel room?” Dante blinked, wondering if it only looked so warm and lavish because he was incredibly toasted. He’d never seen anything quite like it.

 

“Honeymoon suite,” Sadie breezed, pretending not to notice Dante’s quiet groan, “our best room. Since you’re with us for a while, we wanted you to be comfortable.”

 

She strode across the room to a massive brick wall just beside the bed, touching a colorful stone inset in one of the bricks. Without warning the entire wall seemed to fade away quickly, replaced by a sandy line of beach and the roll of ocean waves at night. He could hear the sound of the water lapping quietly, the rush of wind. If Dante hadn’t seen it with his own eyes he would have sworn he was looking out onto the sand across the boardwalk. For a moment he wondered if he was, if they had somehow gone upstairs instead of down.

 

“Holy.... What was in that whiskey...” Dante rubbed at his head, which did nothing to make what he was looking at any more logical.

 

“You can change it to whatever you like,” Sadie clearly didn’t think it was anything out of the ordinary, “try something that brings you peace. I find it helps you sleep.”

 

“How is this possible...?” Dante wandered closer until he was inches away from the breathtaking view, and still couldn’t find anything that gave it away as an illusion. He was almost positive this was a view in real time from the beach across from the guild, but wasn’t sure how that was possible.

 

Sadie was completely ignoring him, now opening the door for Rafter and another man in a waiter’s apron. They had every case, duffel, and bag from the car in tow, even if Rafter was clearly doing the lion’s share of the work.

 

“Got a guy to take care of the car for ya,” Rafter volunteered as he ducked a low-hanging light fixture. “Won’t be seeing it again, and he gave me some good cash for it too.” Rafter tossed a rubber-banded roll of petty cash down on the low coffee table. “Rest’a your stuff’s here.”

 

Dante thanked him profusely, a little overwhelmed. Having any degree of help was an alien concept, and Rafter of course brushed it off. Sadie left him with another warm hug, Rafter by tousling his hair fondly. They promised to send Alex downstairs when he returned.

 

And with that Dante was left alone in the large room, the whiskey bottle still in hand. He stood where he was for several long minutes, just trying to take it all in. He felt incredibly alone. It reminded him of the miserable year he’d spent after leaving Saint Andrews, even though he’d never dreamed of a place like this back then. Against his better judgement he glanced wistfully over at the bed, perched on the edge of lapping waves. It looked soft. Even so, he definitely wouldn’t be getting any sleep until Alex returned, so he abandoned that idea.

 

Instead the hunter wandered over to the ocean view, ghosting his fingers across a brick wall he couldn’t see until he touched the colorful stone. The vision before him shifted to an expanse of desert, the dunes and windy hills just hinting at the colors of sunrise. He tried again, and this time found a rolling meadow filled with fireflies. Every scene was more beautiful than the last, but he was drawn by the allure of what might come next and kept shifting.

 

He lit at last upon a lush forest, heavy with moss and ferns and spirals of rolling mist. The soft chirp of instincts sounded through the dark, punctuated by the distant call of a horned owl. He stared in awe, thinking that it somehow reminded him of Alex. He couldn’t bear to move on. After all... Sadie had told him to find what brought him peace.

 

Stepping back slowly, Dante took a swig directly from the bottle and lost himself in the sight. He remembered talking about missing the woods with his partner, and thought how strange it was to find them again here, in a subterranean tavern in New York City. He’d never encountered this kind of magic up close, and get that he suddenly understood how so many witches lost themselves in it so easily.

 

“Okay, okay...” Dante tried to shake himself from the mesmerizing scene, “enough of that... time to work.” The hunter checked his cellphone for what was probably the fiftieth time that night, feeling both relieved and disappointed to find no missed calls or new messages.

 

He pretended not to notice his boots catch awkwardly on the rug as he tottered gracelessly across the room. He was pretty proud he was able to walk at all, come to think of it. To stay on the safe side, he kicked his boots off in the corner, and on second thought stripped his jacket off as well.

 

Plopping down onto one of the overstuffed cushions on the floor, Dante dragged his backpack closer to him and, mostly accidentally, up-ended it onto the table. And his lap, and the floor.

 

Briefly distracted by a flash of color in his peripheral vision, he looked down at the item laying on the floor by his boots. It took him two tries to reach down and pick it back up, his hand-eye coordination completely abandoning him.

 

It was an early 2000’s model iPod shuffle, the metal case scratched and dinged with wear. He’d won it from Isaac the first time they’d ever met, in an island-themed tiki bar off the Florida coast. Of course he’d realized later that the witch had let him win in a vain attempt to get into his good graces, because when it came down to it Isaac was a shark. The screen was badly cracked, courtesy of Dante’s father throwing it across the room when he’d discovered it, but it powered on well enough and even had some battery left.

 

Smiling to himself at the old piece of junk, Dante tucked the crappy headphones into his ears and shuffled idly through the limited library. He settled on “Take it Easy” from an old Eagles playlist, and leaned back into the cushions. They pulled at him like welcoming arms. Almost immediately the hunter felt some of the tension drain out of his body as his eyes slipped shut, just for a moment.

 

Whiskey bottle cradled under his arm, Dante rummaged through his journals until he found the one he wanted, flipping to an empty page. If his focus and painstakingly-neat handwriting were a little dulled by intoxicating, he didn’t pay attention. Everything was swimming pleasantly in an ocean of painlessness narrated by Glenn Frey. The hunter settled into recording everything he could remember about what Sadie has told him on the crucifix, and waited for Alex.

 

~

 

Upon not immediately spotting Dante, a million thoughts rushed through Alex’s mind on where the hunter might have been. One worry was that the hunter, while slightly intoxicated, might have stumbled out and into the world in a fit of moody stubbornness to do God knows what. Another concern was that while Alex was out, Dante might have actually ‘assholed them out of a safe harbor’ so to speak. That being said, the vampire doubted from what he’d seen that Rafter would have tossed Dante out over whatever stupid thing his partner might have said or done.

 

When Alex scanned the room and didn’t see Dante, he tried to see if he could pick up on the calming smell of smoke and leather in the bar. The scent was there, present but the overwhelming smells of everyone and everything else was enough to make tracking Dante from the bar to wherever he went difficult. It was times like these when Alex wished a vampire’s sense of smell was stronger or more precise. A werewolf, while shifted, for example might have managed it, but not Alex.

 

Suddenly, Alex remembered he did, in fact, have a way to communicate with Dante, though he did occasionally forget cell phones were a thing and that he had one. Pulling his phone out from his jacket pocket, Alex flipped it open and went to the contacts menu and clicked on Dante’s name. He held it up to his ear as he started to make his way over to the bar. Being much less stubborn than his partner, he intended on asking Rafter or Sadie where Dante’s gotten off to if he didn’t pick up within a few rings.

 

As he made his way to the bar, he realized that despite his jeans being black, he could make out signs of grass stains and dirt around his knees from kneeling down to read old headstones. He made a mental note to wear something a little more ragged when they revisited the cemetery, especially considering it sounded as if manual labor would be involved. Alex could only hope Dante got a decent night’s (or day’s) sleep before then.

 

He would have been fine with having Dante sit tomorrow out, as he doubted the hunter ever got enough rest, he felt like that wouldn’t be the best idea. For one, Gabe seemed pretty insistent that Alex bring Dante and given Gabe’s unique...abilities, it seemed like they’d probably need him. Another reason he wanted to bring Dante was of course the lack of anxiety, knowing his partner was were Alex could keep and eye on him and keep him safe. Then again, a reason he didn’t want to bring Dante was knowing Vincent’s tombstone would be in plain view. All it’d take after that would be a simple google search for Dante to know more about Vincent and Alex’s past than he wanted to reveal just yet, if ever.

 

~

 

Dante was elbow deep in research and whiskey by the time he registered the sound of his phone going off, his laptop and journals spread out around him like a small explosion. One thing had led to another and before he knew it he was following a rabbit trail down the dark web. Hexes, curses, charms and seals were sprawled in less than organized sketches and shorthand on various pieces of paper and journal pages.

 

The hunter stood abruptly when he realized it was his phone ringing, pens rolling across the room as he dove for his jacket. His tilting equilibrium had him missing his target by several feet, and he cursed to himself as he grabbed onto the doorframe. When he finally reached his jacket he fumbled through the pockets, cursing to himself until he found the unfamiliar flip phone.

 

“Alex?” Dante said hoarsely into the receiver, squinting against the spinning room. He still had a cigarette hanging from his lips, and he yanked it out irritably. “Are you okay?” For some reason that was the first thing that came out of his mouth, and it probably sounded a little less than composed. He was too relieved to care.

 

-

 

Upstairs, Rafter had finally finished spit-shining every spigot and faucet and handle in the entire bar, the clientele dwindled down to a steady stream and allowing him time to finish the busy work. The bar was open all night, as most of its patrons were nocturnal in one sense or another, but the evening rush tended to be the worst of things.

 

“Alex,” Rafter beamed at the vampire as he spotted him approaching the bar, “glad to see ya’ back in one piece.” He poured himself a long-awaited draught and slammed the tap handle up as it foamed to the brim. “Fancy a nightcap? We got Dante tucked away downstairs.” Reaching into his apron, the Irishman slid a brass key across the bar.

 

“Oh and uh, gotta warn you, he’s off his ass,” Rafter shrugged apologetically. “Wasn’t much for stopping once you left.” 


	8. Call Me When You're Sober

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dante gets a little drunk and Alex can't hold all these emotions.

_“Alex? Are you okay?”_

 

As fate would have it, Alex hung up just as he heard the sound of his own name on the other end. Realize he inadvertently hung up on Dante, he fumbled for a moment, trying to figure out how to redial. As fate would also have it, he’d also arrived at the front of the bar and Rafter was right in front of him, so he looked up at the sound of his own name, momentarily distracted from calling his partner back.

 

_“Alex, glad to see ya’ back in one piece.”_

 

“I’m glad to be back in one piece,” Alex replied, though he looked distracted, as if he were still searching for his partner, his phone sitting like a brick in one hand. “I...didn’t want to mention it in front of Dante but I might have been somewhat worried about...well...” The vampire looked a little unsure of how he wanted to phrase his thoughts. “I might have been a little worried about hunters in the city shooting first and asking questions later.”

 

_“Fancy a nightcap? We got Dante tucked away downstairs.”_

 

“I think I’m good for now,” he responded, unsure of just how much blood was stocked here, knowing it couldn’t possibly be much, though he was glad for what they did have. The mention of his partner’s whereabouts seemed to have some calming effect on Alex, who smiled faintly, “someone finally got him to rest? I have to ask, what did you bribe him with? I was worried he’d be off picking fights with demons and I’d have to go break it up.”

 

Reaching out, Alex picked up the brass key, knowing he’d probably have no trouble tracking Dante down with the numbers of patrons dwindling and the rooms being downstairs. It certainly narrowed down the list of possible locations.

 

_“Oh and uh, gotta warn you, he’s off his ass. Wasn’t much for stopping once you left.”_

 

“Oh, that kind of tucked away,” Alex looked up, then nodded, expecting he’d probably find his partner doing something hairbrained instead of sleeping then. “I’ve never actually seen him drunk, the other day he tried a shot and ended up vomiting it all up.” A pause, as Alex realized circumstances were unusual at the time. “To be fair, and in his defense, I don’t think it was just the alcohol that was too much that night.”

 

~

 

Dante was positive he’d heard noise on the other end of the line when a beep alerted him the call was disconnected. Yanking the phone away, he squinted at the glowing screen.

 

“The fuck,” he mumbled to himself, his finger hovering over the call button. He paused as his sluggish mind began feeding him every possible worst-case scenario, and he breathed shakily as he tried to figure out what to do. If he called right back and Alex was trying to hide or stay quiet, he could get the vampire killed. He was pretty positive Alex hadn’t turned his ringer off.

 

Opening up a text message, he instead typed out a message that was supposed to say “did you just hang up on me” but instead read more like a scrabble board.

 

“Shit,” Dante sighed as he read the garbled “did yo jut hsng up” that he’d sent without proofreading. Sitting down heavily on the floor, he leaned back against the wall beside the door, phone in hand. Five minutes, he decided, and if he didn’t hear back he was going to go find him, drunk or not.

 

-

 

_“I’m glad to be back in one piece… I...didn’t want to mention it in front of Dante but I might have been somewhat worried about...well...I might have been a little worried about hunters in the city shooting first and asking questions later.”_

 

Rafter made a conceding face, thinking that was a fair concern for a vampire. “Far as local hunters go, things ain’t the wild west out here anymore, ya know. There’s something of an order to things. Any hunter knows you’ve been within a mile of this guild should mind they pay their respects, less there’s word you caused trouble of course.” Knowing that might be an unfamiliar concept to a newcomer, Rafter expounded, “what I’m saying is we don’t abide loose cannons on our streets. I can’t promise you’re safe out there, cause none of us are. But we have a way of doing things, and it’s worked for a long time. Hunter law’s not much. But it stands on tradition.”

 

Rafter thought about it and added lightly, “can’t say the same for anything else you mighta pissed off, though.”

 

_“Someone finally got him to rest? I have to ask, what did you bribe him with? I was worried he’d be off picking fights with demons and I’d have to go break it up.”_

 

Rafter chuckled into his beer, taking a long drink that drained half the glass before coming up for air. “No bribes,” he shook his head and wiped the traces of foam from his moustache. “Best plan: don’t give him no options. Headstrong little bugger, as you clearly know, but he ain’t all that tough. Think he picks enough fights with his own demons to last a lifetime, ‘specially the dead ones. Gonna be swinging at ghosts til he’s under six feet, that one.”

 

“Sadie picked you out a real nice room,” Rafter volunteered with pride as Alex picked up the key, “a bit tucked away but yer number’s on there.” The smile fell from his lips and he looked around quickly, leaning in. “If you don’t like the room though, you better lie your skinny ass off. Says she don’t take it personal but women always say that. It’s a trap, right?”

 

_“I’ve never actually seen him drunk, the other day he tried a shot and ended up vomiting it all up.”_

 

“You know, I bought him his first beer,” Rafter smiled conspiratorially, then thought about it and realized that might not be something to be proud of. “Er, well... maybe I shouldn’t… anyways, a hunter’s gotta drink. Rite of passage.” He gestured to the thriving bar around them, adding, “why do you think business is good? If you don’t smoke out your demons some way, Jack Daniel’s happy to help.”

 

_“To be fair, and in his defense, I don’t think it was just the alcohol that was too much that night.”_

 

Rafter huffed, less than surprised. “Yeah he told me a bit of what you two got up to, at least the bones of it.” Frowning, Rafter hesitated as he considered the wisdom of saying more. He thought about it as he finished his beer and poured himself another.

 

“Look, eh, Dante don’t take too kindly to my butting in, an I know it. So maybe keep it between us, right? I like you, Sade loves you. Human, half or fairy, we don’t give much of a damn round here, so that’s good enough for me. Don’t care about the semantics, and pretty clear you balance the boy out a way he sorely needs.”

 

Rafter pursed his lips, beer cold in hand. “But he ain’t the type to kill his own, whatever anger he’s got towards ‘em. Acts hard, you know, but he ain't. Not like his old man was. So what I’m sayin' is…” he pointed a large finger at the vampire’s chest, “says a lot for what he feels about you.”

 

Thinking he’d made his point, Rafter gave the vampire the side-eye, raising an eyebrow, “now then, where’d you get off to? I know there ain’t a lot of fresh ground in this rat’s nest, so that narrows it down.”

 

~

 

_“did yo jut hsng up”_

 

Alex, being not particularly tech-savvy, usually didn’t turn his ringer off. More often than not, everything with factory settings that he got his hands on, remained on factory settings. A moment later, while talking to Rafter, Alex noticed that his phone buzzed, indicating he’d gotten a text message. Knowing it was more than likely Dante, he glanced down, frowning at the garbled message.

 

~

 

_“Far as local hunters go, things ain’t the wild west out here anymore, ya know. Hunter law’s not much. But it stands on tradition.”_

 

“That’s a relief, actually, one less thing to worry about and all that,” Alex felt as if his nerves about wandering around the city were put at ease, even if it was only just a bit.

 

_“...can’t say the same for anything else you mighta pissed off, though.”_

 

“...There’s a long list of things we might have pissed off over the years,” the vampire admitted, thinking about just how high the body count must have been between Dante and himself. “Everything from elder vampires to Nazis, to demons in Vegas and the occasional werewolf pack...” A pause as Alex reassessed the statement, then made an amendment. “Actually, I think the pissed off dead Nazis are mostly a me thing, Dante hadn’t been born yet, on the off chance a legion of undead racists come knocking it’s probably because I pissed them off.”

 

Eyeing his phone, Alex realized time was ticking and he really should text his partner back. Poking at his phone, he answered Dante’s garbled question with a ‘yes.’ A moment after that, he pondered trying to clarify, but given that Dante was probably drunk...

 

_“No bribes,” “Best plan: don’t give him no options.” ... “Gonna be swinging at ghosts til he’s under six feet, that one.”_

 

Alex felt his mouth pull into an endearing half-smile, though it was somewhat sad. There always seemed to be a lot Dante bottled up and over the last day or two Alex had tried to gently pry the lid off, only it hadn’t gone all that well. Then there was the notion at the back of his mind that maybe Dante was willing to open up, just not to Alex and that somehow stung a bit.

 

_“Sadie picked you out a real nice room,” ... “It’s a trap, right?”_

 

“I’m sure the room’s absolutely perfect,” was the automatic response, but Alex doubted he’d be too broken up if the room wasn’t to his tastes. “Thank you, by the way, for all of this. I wouldn’t know where else Dante and I would have gone and we were kind of at the end of our rope when we got here.”

 

_“Why do you think business is good? If you don’t smoke out your demons some way, Jack Daniel’s happy to help.”_

 

“I’m not sure anymore if it’s a good or bad thing I can’t get drunk,” Alex mused out loud, “it does make sense though, why bars are a popular hotspot for hunters.”

 

_“Yeah he told me a bit of what you two got up to, at least the bones of it.”_

 

Alex cringed a little, thinking back on the other night.

 

“He keeps telling me it wasn’t my fault, but I feel like it is,” he said, right then wishing drinking was an option for him. “And not just last night, but the entire thing with other hunters and his old church, if it wasn’t for me I feel like none of that would be a problem for him.”

 

_“Don’t care about the semantics, and pretty clear you balance the boy out a way he sorely needs.”_

 

The surprised look that passed Alex face lasted a lot longer than he would have liked. For a moment, he got a sinking suspicion that Rafter might have been implying something other than Dante and him hunting together. Right then however, he couldn’t help but feel better, knowing that whatever he and Dante were to each other was accepted.

 

_“But he ain’t the type to kill his own, whatever anger he’s got towards ‘em. So what I’m sayin' is…says a lot for what he feels about you.”_

 

Alex simply nodded, recalling how Dante had reacted to looking at the ID of the man who had nearly killed them both. In a way, Alex envied Dante’s sense of remorse. The vampire had felt nothing draining and punting the dead man’s corpse into a tree afterwards. Personally, he didn’t like the idea of senseless violence, he wasn’t that kind of person anymore, not in nearly a hundred years. Only the idea that someone had tried to drag them apart, then tried to kill Dante... There was a sudden, startling moment in which Alex realized any sense of morality he had went out the window when it came to his partner. It was a cold, unpleasant feeling in the pit of his gut that made him all the more desperate to see the hot-headed and likely drunk hunter.

 

_“...now then, where’d you get off to? I know there ain’t a lot of fresh ground in this rat’s nest, so that narrows it down.”_

 

“I had a few old friends to visit,” Alex answered, glancing down at the state of his jeans and the bits of grass and dirt cleaning to his shoes. “Very old friends,” he emphasized, clearly not talking about a retirement home.

 

“...I should really go and make sure Dante isn’t doing anything I wouldn’t do,” Alex murmured, checking his phone. “On a scale of 1-10, how bad do you think his hangover will be?”

 

~

 

_“...There’s a long list of things we might have pissed off over the years… Everything from elder vampires to Nazis, to demons in Vegas and the occasional werewolf pack… Actually, I think the pissed off dead Nazis are mostly a me thing, Dante hadn’t been born yet, on the off chance a legion of undead racists come knocking it’s probably because I pissed them off.”_

 

“Nazis,” Rafter laughed loudly, patting his chest with one hand as he tried to contain himself, “that’s rich. I knew there was something I liked about ya. Hafta tell me about some of those when you get yer feet under ya. I missed out on a lot, sounds like.”

 

_“I’m sure the room’s absolutely perfect… Thank you, by the way, for all of this. I wouldn’t know where else Dante and I would have gone and we were kind of at the end of our rope when we got here.”_

 

Rafter huffed and waved away the gratitude, but it was clear he enjoyed hearing it. “Well, folks don’t come dragging in here cause their life’s going to plan, you know. It’s an end of the road kinda spot. We just pride ourselves on makin’ it a good one.” Pausing, Rafter dropped his chin a bit in shame. "Truth is, I been waiting for him to walk in here for years. Felt awful I never did more to help. Maybe selfish of me, but I don't wanna see him off again."

 

_“He keeps telling me it wasn’t my fault, but I feel like it is,” ... “And not just last night, but the entire thing with other hunters and his old church, if it wasn’t for me I feel like none of that would be a problem for him.”_

 

“Listen Alex,” Rafter braced his hands on the bar, “you seem the level-headed type. Odin knows I dish out my fair share of whiskey wisdom fer a livin’ down here, so let me put some to ya plain. Yer both hunters. Both gonna be dragging around a lot of guilt and blame as long as yer walkin’ upright. So do yourselves a favor, right, an’ don’t take anything what’s not yours. It’s too heavy, son.”

 

Nodding in firm agreement with himself, Rafter dipped his giant glass into the sink, rinsing it carefully. The faucet creaked as he shut it off, and he shook the excess water from his mug. “So maybe you put each other in a tight spot now an’ again, but that’s the risk you take anytime you ain’t alone. Easier to take a bullet for your partner, at times, than live with what happens to ‘em cause you’re around. It’s a road what goes both ways, you understand? He says it ain’t yer fault, and maybe it is and maybe it ain’t. Ya gotta decide if you trust him. Only way it works.”

 

_“I had a few old friends to visit...Very old friends.”_

 

“Ah,” the Irishman nodded simply, “something to be said for gettin’ yer closure. That I can understand.”

_“...I should really go and make sure Dante isn’t doing anything I wouldn’t do.... On a scale of 1-10, how bad do you think his hangover will be?”_

 

“Hm,” Rafter considered the question for a moment. “That scale don’t go any higher than a 10? He’s gonna be a pleasure tomorrow, anyways. Sometimes you just gotta let a man drink himself out. Good for ‘im.”

 

Looking a little embarrassed, the Irishman again considered the wisdom of saying more, but decided he and Alex had the same prerogative either way he looked at it. “Besides, it’ll get the job done. Whiskey should help him sleep, the hangover’ll motivate him to get some greasy food in is gullet when he wakes up.” Shrugging innocently he added, “more than one way to skin a cat, like they say.”

 

_“Now then, ya take the door there; end of the hall head downstairs. Third left, first right, down the stairs again, and last door on your left. Pretty green color, can’t miss it.”_

 

~

 

_“Nazis, that’s rich. I missed out on a lot, sounds like.”_

“It’s a very long story,” Alex said, feeling his smile widen despite himself. “I’ve only told Dante bits of that decade, I usually I end up on a tangent or two.”

 

_“Maybe selfish of me, but I don't wanna see him off again."_

 

“I’m not entirely sure where we were planning on going after New York to be honest,” Alex admitted with a shrug. “Dante seemed keen on going after my sire the other night, but...I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, or even where to start there, and we’ve got more than our fair share of problems as it is.”

 

As much as Alex hated crowds and loved the wilderness, the idea of staying a while was growing on him. It seemed the city had changed a bit since he was last here. Not to mention, he at least knew there was one structure were Dante would be safe if anything ever came after them.

 

_“Listen Alex,” ... “It’s too heavy, son.”_

 

The vampire just nodded, accepting the life advice for what it was. He did quell the urge to point out he was likely the same age as Rafter’s grandparents, but that was neither here nor there.

 

_“So maybe you put each other in a tight spot now an’ again, but that’s the risk you take anytime you ain’t alone. Ya gotta decide if you trust him. Only way it works.”_

 

“It’s taken some getting used to, not being alone,” Alex admitted, having suffered Nikolai, his coven, two wars and so much all while alone. “I’ve never had to worry about how my actions might affect someone else and now...I can’t help but second guess and worry that I’ll get him killed.” A pause, “but I do trust him, I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone else like I trust him.”

 

_“Hm,” ... “That scale don’t go any higher than a 10? He’s gonna be a pleasure tomorrow, anyways._

 

He’s already at a ten, Alex thought to himself, not thinking of sobriety or hangovers as he did.

 

“According to him a snickers bar and my smiling face seems to be enough in the morning,” the vampire cringed, recalling being called ‘Sugar Garbage’ of all things. “I hope he’s ready to help dig up a few skeletons tomorrow,” Alex mused, actually genuinely curious what was in his grave as it obviously wasn’t him. “Well, a grave with my name on it and a casket that has who knows what in it... Tonight’s been very strange.”

 

_“Now then, ya take the door there; end of the hall head downstairs. Third left, first right, down the stairs again, and last door on your left. Pretty green color, can’t miss it.”_

 

Alex nodded, heading off following the directions Rafter had provided. It wasn’t long before Alex was at the green door and sliding the key into the lock. Letting himself in seemed a better option than knocking and waiting for Dante to stumble his way to the door, and risk his partner having an accident on the way. Turning the lock, Alex pushed the door open and paused. He hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect out of a room here, but this was much nicer than what he had expected.

 

Scanning the room, Alex took note of the furnishings, the view of what looked like a forest was surprising, but right then the main thing he was interested in was Dante. That and the journals and pages of all kind of hocus pocus looking scrawlings scattered about. Stepping more fully into the room, Alex closed the door behind him.

 

“I’ve never known anyone to do research while drinking,” the vampire said, approaching and eyeing the journals with curiosity. “Now I just feel bad, I’m off meeting strangers in cemeteries and here you are working of all things.”

 

~

_“Dante seemed keen on going after my sire the other night, but...I’m not sure if that’s the best idea, or even where to start there, and we’ve got more than our fair share of problems as it is.”_

 

Rafter grimaced at the idea of Dante and Alex running off half-cocked against a powerful vampire, but couldn’t say he was surprised by the plan. “One thing at a time, you fool kids…” He was fully aware the vampire was probably a lot older than he was, but by his own reckoning that didn't make much difference.

 

_“It’s taken some getting used to, not being alone...I’ve never had to worry about how my actions might affect someone else and now...I can’t help but second guess and worry that I’ll get him killed. but I do trust him, I don’t think I’ll ever trust anyone else like I trust him.”_

 

Rafter was satisfied with that answer, nodding once. “Partnership’s an odd burden,” he muttered quietly, “there’s a reason my first marriage went up in smoke an’ all. Makes ya strong, but it also takes you out at the kneecaps. Balance is hard to find in this world.”

 

_“I hope he’s ready to help dig up a few skeletons tomorrow… Well, a grave with my name on it and a casket that has who knows what in it... Tonight’s been very strange.”_

 

“Oooh, a little old-fashioned grave robbing eh? Reminds me of the old days,” Rafter’s eyes twinkled in delight at the idea, “just don’t get yourselves in a hole what you can’t climb out of out there. Lots’a restless spirits round these parts.”

 

“Now then, get ya’ off downstairs. We’ll have time to catch up more in the morning, or whatever time of day you get around. Whole guild’s safe from the sunlight, so you both are free to do as you please round here.”

 

-

 

Dante jerked his head up as the door opened, blinking at Alex with one shoe in his hand and the other half-tied on his foot. His brain was swimming in whiskey and unable to compose a logical plan past getting dressed and storming out, but apparently he’d gotten himself worked up for nothing. The vampire looked none the worse for wear, and the sheer relief that realization brought was staggering.

 

“Dude,” he croaked out finally, letting the sneaker drop to the carpet as he straightened, “you gotta learn how to answer your phone like a normal person.” He kicked off his other shoe and sent it flying under the bed somewhere.

 

_“I’ve never known anyone to do research while drinking… Now I just feel bad, I’m off meeting strangers in cemeteries and here you are working of all things.”_

 

“Oh, fuck, right,” Dante suddenly remembered what he’d been working on, moving unsteadily over towards his laptop, thinking he might be able to act more sober than he was, “I have so much to tell you, this night has been crazy… and apparently I’m better at this when I’m drunk because I feel like I actually see everything. Not see, but see, you know? It’s like things are finally falling into place, like it was there but I just couldn’t get it--”

 

He paused mid-ramble, a bundle of journal and sketches spilling out of his arms, registering what Alex had just said. “Wait... who are you meeting in cemeteries?” He tried to force his eyes to focus, finally noticing bits of grass and soil on his partner. “Aw man, those are brand new...”

 

~

 

_“One thing at a time, you fool kids…”_

 

“The way I see it, the last thing we need is to chase after a vampire bent on making me suffer,” Alex said with a shrug, “but I’m sure you know how Dante gets.”

 

_“Partnership’s an odd burden. Balance is hard to find in this world.”_

 

There was a moment in which a look of confusion passed over Alex’s face. He wasn’t entirely sure why Rafter was comparing the situation between Dante and Alex to a marriage, but he supposed it wasn’t too off. After all, both required a lot of commitment and sometimes sacrifice to work.

 

_“Oooh, a little old-fashioned grave robbing eh? Reminds me of the old days,” “Lots’a restless spirits round these parts.”_

 

“Is it really grave robbing to dig up one’s own grave?” Alex mused, though he nodded at the mention of spirits. “I wouldn’t be surprised if the cemetery is haunted, actually...”

 

With thoughts of a brief foray into ghost hunting, Alex went off to find his partner.

 

~

 

_“Dude, you gotta learn how to answer your phone like a normal person.”_

 

“I’m old,” Alex said simply as if that was all the explanation needed, feeling kind of bad, though he couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen again.

 

_“Oh, fuck, right, It’s like things are finally falling into place, like it was there but I just couldn’t get it--”_

 

“Oh good, so I’m not the only one who’s had a crazy night,” the vampire wandered over to where Dante had left all of his work, finding a cushion to plop down on as he tried to make sense of what Dante was saying. “See see like...see?” A moment later, a soft barely present laugh passed his lips, tonight was just too much. “God, I sounded like a olden timey mobster from a bad movie just now.”

 

_“Wait... who are you meeting in cemeteries?”_

 

With that, Alex pulled out his wallet and retrieved the scrap of paper with Gabe’s number on it. The uber driver’s number, that had ended up in the same card slot, fell out as well and fluttered to the ground, but Alex didn’t seem concerned with that one. While the driver had been clearly hitting on him, Gabriel’s intentions seemed much less sleazy.

 

“His name’s Gabe, it’s a long story...” Holding the number, and his phone out he gave Dante a slightly sheepish look. “I don’t really remember how to add a contact to my phone, would you mind helping?”

 

_“Aw man, those are brand new...”_

 

“And this is why we can’t have nice things,” the vampire replied with amusement in his voice. “It’s fine, these pants are dark enough and I only got my knees and shins messy. It could be worse, blood is much harder to get out and it’s not as if kids aren’t running around with holes in their pants as it is.”

 

“Anyway, enough about my clothing,” he said, leaning forward a bit, resting his elbows on his grass and soil stained knees to look at the mess of papers. “So...are you taking an interest in witchcraft now? And this whole thing about seeing, do you mean I might have not been entirely off in thinking our luck was always just too good to be true? Honestly, I feel like I need a rundown of everything that’s happened, because you went from total non believer to rambling about seeing.”

 

~

 

_“His name’s Gabe, it’s a long story...I don’t really remember how to add a contact to my phone, would you mind helping?”_

 

Dante took the paper and phone with a distracted sigh, wondering exactly how long of a story it could possibly be. He half-sat, half-fell down next to his partner, muttering an apology as their shoulders squashed together.

 

“Call me,” Dante read the paper flatly, ignoring the way the numbers swam on the page. “Okay then...” He wasn’t prepared to feel like he did. Defensive, insecure…. Jealous as hell. It lit inside him like a bonfire, burning up all rational thought in its wake. He forced himself to move, flipping open the phone clumsily and programming in the requested number. Breathing out through his nose to try to regain his slipping control, he spotted the second scrap of paper on the ground and leaned down to scoop it up.

 

“Oh, another one,” Dante scowled testily, “great. So were you out there trolling for ass or tying up loose ends?”

 

He hauled himself out of the cushions gracelessly, wavering slightly as the room spun around him. He tossed the phone back to Alex, knowing he was being petty but too drunk to control it.

 

_“And this is why we can’t have nice things... It’s fine, these pants are dark enough and I only got my knees and shins messy. It could be worse, blood is much harder to get out and it’s not as if kids aren’t running around with holes in their pants as it is.”_

 

Dante grunted by way of answer, his mood spiraling darkly to the point where he couldn’t even appreciate the joke about modern fashion. He found the whiskey bottle where he’d left it on a dresser and helped himself to the dwindling supply. He looked over his shoulder at Alex, now staring at the scattered mess of paperwork.

 

_“Anyway, enough about my clothing… So...are you taking an interest in witchcraft now? And this whole thing about seeing, do you mean I might have not been entirely off in thinking our luck was always just too good to be true? Honestly, I feel like I need a rundown of everything that’s happened, because you went from total non believer to rambling about seeing.”_

 

“No, I’m not saying that,” Dante corrected quickly, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m just--look I just dug up some things, I’m figuring it out. I was too stupid, or maybe too sober, to get it before. It’s like my brain rebooted.”

 

Kneeling next to the table he shuffled through several of the loose leaves of parchment he’d been scribbling on, bracing his hand on the low surface to disguise his tipping equilibrium. He pulled one out and shoved it across towards Alex, flipping the laptop screen open and tapping it triumphantly. “Seal. It’s a witches seal. Binding, works on the undead. Any kinda spirit or ghost or ghoul or vampire. Knew there had to be witches... I just didn't know where to look before.”

 

He scrambled back up and dug through his jacket, cursing quietly to himself when he couldn’t find what he was looking for. “Hold on,” he muttered, stumbling into the bathroom. He found his silver crucifix hanging on one of the flickering sconces next to the mirror and brought it with him back into the main room. “And this, this stupid fucking thing… knew I should have burned it, or tossed it in the damn ocean. Not too late I guess.”

 

“And it’s not luck,” he scoffed, his brain firing randomly back to what Alex had said earlier, “what luck? I’m fucking cursed, if anything. I mean, this means the brotherhood was working with witches on some level for centuries, and I never even knew. How stupid am I? Tracking every single hunter they send out like friggin drones, probably so they can replace ‘em if they go down. Make sure they don’t give up any secrets. Stupid.”

 

Going back for the last of the whiskey, Dante returned, the bottle sloshing dangerously in his hand. His body was not enjoying the constant up-and-down motions but his brain wasn’t about to let him relax. It was a bad combination.

 

“So they track us to the motel, I mean what did we do before that? Before the werewolf hunt? That must’ve been when someone saw us together or something, because that’s when all this shit starts. The eyes on us at the arcade bar, the hunter--” he gestured to the forest scene across the room, still plugging away in tranquil peace. “That, that’s a real place, it’s not just an illusion. There’s a way they can use things, you know, crystals or stones or plinths or any number of things to watch the world, to see exactly what it sees, like watching a TV screen…”

 

He was forced to take a break from what probably sounded like crazed rambling, when the room started tipping dangerously around him . Shaking his head in a vain attempt to clear the pulsing fog, he breathed out heavily. “Witches,” he punctuated his words carefully with his hands, “and hunters. Together, versus us. But like not just a suspicion, it’s true. Sadie found a spell on that stupid crucifix, and everything kinda fell together you know...”

 

Giving up on fighting the spins, Dante plopped down onto his ass next to the table, grimacing when the tipping bottle sloshed onto his hand where he still held it. He looked at it for a blank moment, and slowly wiped his hand on his t-shirt. “Like I don’t know what’s in this shit,” he held up the bottle admiringly, “but it’s doin’ the damn trick. I feel greeeeaat.”

 

“Now who the fuck is _Gabe_?” He demanded eventually, his jumbled braining darting back and forth between topics, “and why’d you hang up on me?” It sounded a little more petulant than he meant it to, “I thought you were like, dying or something.”

 

~

 

_“Oh, another one, great. So were you out there trolling for ass or tying up loose ends?”_

 

Maybe today had been too much, because Alex couldn’t stop the laughter that spilled passed his lips this time. The idea that he might have been out doing anything other than getting closure was absurd to him. Not only that, he wasn’t entirely sure why Dante was getting so bent out of shape about it.

 

“If I’d known you were planning on working I should have stayed in to help,” he said casually, assuming the reason Dante was so testy was because he thought Alex was out having fun or something.

 

“I did in fact go to the cemetery and hadn’t intended on meeting anyone there. As for that,” he gestured to the second number. “Gabe was kind enough to call an uber, since apparently credit card number two would have been at its limit. The driver was a little too friendly and insisted on giving me his number.” For a moment, Alex paused, thinking and shaking his head, “I should stop getting into cars with strangers.”

 

When Dante tossed his phone to him, Alex caught it and examined the contact list. He’d never had more than one contact before in any of the phones Dante had picked up for them and it was kind of nice. Of course, it didn’t for a second occur to him that Dante was upset about the numbers, so much as the idea that he was out ‘trolling for ass’ apparently. The vampire was pretty sure, if anyone’s ass was getting trolled it had been his own.

 

_“No, I’m not saying that, I’m just--look I just dug up some things, I’m figuring it out. I was too stupid, or maybe too sober, to get it before. It’s like my brain rebooted.”_

 

The vampire looked up, eyeing the hunter with his bottle of whiskey and briefly thought about taking it. Then again, recalling what Rafter said, Alex supposed it wouldn’t hurt to let Dante drown himself in alcohol just this one night. That and from the sound of it, the alcohol was helping Dante figure a few things out.

 

_“Seal. It’s a witches seal. Binding, works on the undead. Any kinda spirit or ghost or ghoul or vampire. Knew there had to be witches... I just didn't know where to look before.”_

 

Alex leaned in, interested now that he had an idea of what Dante had been researching while he had been out. The fact that it had something to do with that seal that had managed to trap him made it all the more intriguing. The thought of getting snagged in that thing again, given its effect when he fought back, sent a cold chill down his spine. Suppressing a shudder, Alex wanted to ask if there was any chance of finding something to counter the seal.

 

_“Hold on. And this, this stupid fucking thing… knew I should have burned it, or tossed it in the damn ocean. Not too late I guess.”_

 

“Dante...” Alex murmured his partner’s name, as he stumbled out of the bathroom with his crucifix going on about burning or tossing it. “That seems a bit extreme,” he added, knowing his partner’s history with his father and the church was a touchy subject.

 

_“And it’s not luck, what luck? I’m fucking cursed, if anything.”_

 

It was a hard to describe feeling, but Alex had almost felt as if he’d been slapped by Dante’s conclusion that he was cursed. It had been that same mixed bag of luck that brought them together and into the present. The idea that it might have been a curse to Dante, everything leading up until now, hadn’t really occurred to the vampire. Nevertheless, he kept his face carefully blank, not wanting to betray any emotion while his partner ranted.

 

_“I mean, this means the brotherhood was working with witches on some level for centuries, and I never even knew.” ... “Make sure they don’t give up any secrets. Stupid.”_

 

“You’re not stupid...” Alex muttered, feeling as if this was tipping the hunter over into a much gloomier mood. Under his breath he added, “and you’re not cursed, stupid.”

 

_“So they track us to the motel, I mean what did we do before that?” ... “There’s a way they can use things, you know, crystals or stones or plinths or any number of things to watch the world, to see exactly what it sees, like watching a TV screen…”_

 

“If someone saw us, they had to have known who you were, your affiliation to the church, and they’d have to have known what I am,” was the only response Alex had to all that. Gaze shifting to the forest scene, he took a moment to take in how lifelike it appeared. “Maybe there’s a way to shield ourselves from it? Like...creating white noise on a TV screen, or disrupting a signal? Obviously, I wouldn’t know I’m not the magic expert in the building.”

 

_“Witches, and hunters. Together, versus us. But like not just a suspicion, it’s true. Sadie found a spell on that stupid crucifix, and everything kinda fell together you know...”_

 

“At least we know what we’re up against now,” was the dry response, though the problem remained of how to deal with what they were up against. “Doesn’t sound like we have much of a game plan yet, maybe we can hash that out when you’re sober.”

 

_“Like I don’t know what’s in this shit, but it’s doin’ the damn trick. I feel greeeeaat.”_

 

“That looks like a bottle of whiskey,” was the blunt reply, “and this is probably the first time I’ve ever seen you drunk.”

 

_“Now who the fuck is Gabe?”_

 

“Gabriel Genovese,” Alex said the full name out loud, feeling a faint smile on his lips, thinking of a memory long passed. “He’s the descendant of an old friend of mine, I...don’t quite understand it, but he was waiting, even said I was late when I showed up...” The vampire ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of the last few hours and how to explain all of it to Dante without droning on. “He says he’s not a witch, just to clarify, but...” A shrug. “Anyway, he wanted me to call him tomorrow because we’re planning on digging up my grave.”

 

Reaching out across the table, Alex snagged the bottle from Dante, eyed the meager amount of its contents left, and downed the remainder himself. It did absolutely nothing for him, but a small part of him couldn’t help but rustle his partner’s jimmies just a bit.

 

Setting the bottle aside, he continued, “and I mean ‘we’ as in you’re coming too.”

 

_“And why’d you hang up on me? I thought you were like, dying or something.”_

 

“I thought you were asleep and hung up because you took so long,” the vampire replied in a very matter of fact tone. “And then Rafter was talking to me and it seemed rude to ignore him when he was standing right there.”

 

~

 

Alex’s laughter had the hunter seeing red in about a millisecond flat, though thankfully the pleasantly numbing effects of alcohol consumption weren’t letting him linger on anything for more than a few moments.

 

_“If I’d known you were planning on working I should have stayed in to help...”_

 

Dante waved that idea off as ridiculous, knowing his burst of adrenaline and inspiration had been partially the side-effect of the anxiety brought on by being without his partner. It wasn’t as if he had planned it.

 

_“I did in fact go to the cemetery and hadn’t intended on meeting anyone there... should stop getting into cars with strangers.”_

 

As tipsy as he was, Alex’s logical explanation for showing up with two strange phone numbers and a stupid grin did absolutely nothing to lighten Dante’s sour mood. It wasn’t as if everything he was feeling was remotely based on logic. It was easy to plug ahead on his rambling monologue after that, ignoring his partner’s insistence more than once that he was being ridiculous. A part of him already knew that, but he didn’t have his wits about him quite enough to sort out the useful from the emotional. He was pretty sure he heard Alex mumble something that ended with “Stupid,” but he wasn’t about to lose his momentum.

 

_“If someone saw us, they had to have known who you were, your affiliation to the church, and they’d have to have known what I am... Maybe there’s a way to shield ourselves from it? Like...creating white noise on a TV screen, or disrupting a signal?“_

 

Dante paused mid-ramble, staring into space as he tried to make his brain work like he needed it too. “It has to be somebody who recognized me... another hunter. Or fuck, even another priest. Think if that was the case they’d have tried to kill me on the spot, but who knows. I wish that narrowed it down.” Shielding was an interesting idea, and he made some scribbles on the nearest scrap of paper to remind himself to look into it.

 

_“At least we know what we’re up against now... Doesn’t sound like we have much of a game plan yet, maybe we can hash that out when you’re sober.”_

 

“I was working on that,” the hunter replied testily, “had to hit pause to go find your technologically-challenged ass.” It sounded better than admitting that as far as game plans went, he was sitting on a whole lot of nothing. The rabbit trails of clues and information were piecing together for him, but all the research in the world wouldn’t actually help them if it came down to a fight. So far, actual solutions were elusive. “Anyways, I’m not that drunk.” It might have been the worst lie he’d ever told.

 

_“That looks like a bottle of whiskey, and this is probably the first time I’ve ever seen you drunk.”_

 

Because Dante was too inebriated to come up with a defense, he just shrugged and nodded shamelessly. “Told ya it would happen someday. Never know when you’re gonna die and all that. Might as well drink.” He was mostly grateful he was too distracted—and maybe too jealous—to worry about where his words and hands might wander.

 

_“Gabriel Genovese. He’s the descendant of an old friend of mine, I...don’t quite understand it, but he was waiting, even said I was late when I showed up...”_

 

Dante really didn’t care for the way Alex smiled talking about the guy who had just given him his number, complete with everything but the “XOXO.” Oh great, another witch, was the next thought Dante had as he listened. Apparently Alex read his mind.

 

_“He says he’s not a witch, just to clarify, but... Anyway, he wanted me to call him tomorrow because we’re planning on digging up my grave.”_

 

“Sounds like a hot first date,” the human couldn’t resist the sarcasm-fueled jibe, “who doesn’t love long walks under the moonlight in a cemetery...”

 

Thinking about it, he scowled as common sense played catch-up. “Waitta minute... he was just waiting for you there? Like a serial killer? Isn’t that kinda stalker-ish, like what if he’s one of those psychos who’s been following us?”

 

Dante blinked, his reflexes slowed as the whiskey was plucked from his hands a few swallows short of empty. He watched Alex drink it down, distracted momentarily by the muscles in his neck and the arch of his jawline.

 

“Why?” The hunter spread his arms in an exasperated gesture. “Why would you... ugh. Thanks a lot, fucker...” While he probably should have stopped drinking a while ago and wouldn’t miss the last of that bottle, he was also fully aware the vampire had only finished it off to mess with him. It was now a matter of principle.

 

_“And I mean ‘we’ as in you’re coming too.”_

 

“Of course I am,” Dante grumbled back, “not like I’m letting you rob your own grave without me.” He managed not to say aloud that there was a snowball’s chance in hell he was letting Alex run off with this Gabe person alone, which was a stronger motivation than anything to tag along. Even besides his baseless paranoia, it felt too wrong to be separated from his partner. He wasn’t sure how much more of that he could put up with before losing his sanity entirely.

 

_“I thought you were asleep and hung up because you took so long. And then Rafter was talking to me and it seemed rude to ignore him when he was standing right there.”_

 

Dante groaned, wondering if he even want to know what kind of conversation that had been. “Well it’s a miracle you escaped that one. You can’t let him catch you and start talking... he’ll just keep on giving you unsolicited life advice until one of you dies of old age...”

 

The hunter sorely hoped that if the Irishman had said anything too weird—i.e., anything along the lines of their earlier horribly awkward conversation—that Alex would say something. For now he was content to play dumb and hope for the best. He had enough rushing through his mind, all jumbled and demanding, without worrying about that too.

 

“Wonder if they have room service... seeing as how somebody thought it was real cute to drink the last of my dinner,” Dante shot his partner a dirty look from his seat on the floor.

 

~

 

_“It has to be somebody who recognized me... another hunter. Or fuck, even another priest. Think if that was the case they’d have tried to kill me on the spot, but who knows. I wish that narrowed it down.”_

 

“It might not have been someone directly involved with the church, you know how the grapevine is,” was the automatic reply as Alex thought for a moment. “Someone might have simply mentioned they noticed a hunter and a vampire together, then word got out and eventually reached your cult of crazies.”

 

_“I was working on that, had to hit pause to go find your technologically-challenged ass.”_

 

“But you didn’t go find me, did you?” Alex tried, and failed, to keep the smugness out of his voice. “I’m afraid the most I can give you is an A for effort, better luck next time.”

 

_“Told ya it would happen someday. Never know when you’re gonna die and all that. Might as well drink.”_

 

“That’s...kind of a slippery slope, don’t you think?” Alex commented, not entirely sure if this was a good slope for his partner to be slipping down. A drink here or there was fine, but the idea of Dante becoming a chronic alcoholic left Alex more than a little unsettled, though he wasn’t sure how to voice that thought.

 

Thinking of Gabe indirectly brought back a few memories. Alex might have been briefly lost in through of his childhood, teen years, and early adulthood with that same smile on his normally neutral face. Dave had been a constant presence in his life even longer than he’d known Vincent. They’d gotten into plenty of trouble as kids together and their antics carried over into adulthood. Well, Dave’s antics, as Alex had been expected to act a little more grown up at the time. If he hadn’t fallen for Vincent like he had, he easily could have seen himself falling for his childhood friend.

 

_“Sounds like a hot first date, who doesn’t love long walks under the moonlight in a cemetery...”_

 

“Probably not as fun as arcade games,” the expression on Alex’s face was impassive as he mentioned the arcade, not wanting to betray how he’d felt about that brief moment of normal between them.

 

_“Waitta minute... he was just waiting for you there? Like a serial killer? Isn’t that kinda stalker-ish, like what if he’s one of those psychos who’s been following us?”_

 

“...Are...you worried about a serial killer or stalker coming after me?” A single eyebrow rose, the entire idea kind of ridiculous to the vampire. “I don’t think the descendant of an old friend would be planning on axe murdering me, if that makes you feel better. Obviously Gabe isn’t Dave, but they...feel similar. If that makes sense? I also don’t think he’s one of ‘those psychos’ but then I’ve been wrong before, on occasion.”

 

_“Why?” ... “Why would you... ugh. Thanks a lot, fucker...”_

 

“You’re _adorable_ like this,” the vampire replied, not a single ounce of remorse in his voice, but plenty of amusement. “I guess at least you’re not an angry drunk,” he added, not wanting to mention his bad history with angry drunks.

 

_“Of course I am, not like I’m letting you rob your own grave without me.”_

 

“You know,” Alex started, “I never imagined I’d be digging up my own grave, but I don’t think it counts as grave robbing if it’s my own grave. That’s like robbing your own house or stealing your own wallet.”

_“Well it’s a miracle you escaped that one. You can’t let him catch you and start talking... he’ll just keep on giving you unsolicited life advice until one of you dies of old age...”_

 

“I can’t die of old age,” the vampire deadpanned. “To be fair, I think he might have advised me to let you drink and I might have said something about undead Nazis, but that’s neither here nor there.”

 

_“Wonder if they have room service... seeing as how somebody thought it was real cute to drink the last of my dinner,”_

 

“Oh, so you think I’m cute now?” Alex quipped offhandedly, not even a little bit sorry about drinking the last of the whiskey. “I’m sure you’ll think I’m less cute tomorrow when you’re hungover and have to deal with robbing my grave with me.”

 

Standing up, Alex went around the room, picking through bags of things and wondering just how long they’d be here and if he should bother with unpacking. It seemed silly, to want to not live out of a suitcase, but decades of doing just that was exhausting and even if it were for a few days, or a week, or who knows how long, he wanted normal to be their norm as much as it could be.

 

“Might if I unpack?” Alex asked, looking back over at Dante. “Actually, I’ll take some of Rafter’s life advice,” the vampire didn’t say as much, but it was the bit about not giving his hardheaded partner options. “I’ll unpack and you can carry on researching witches.”

 

~

 

_“But you didn’t go find me, did you? I’m afraid the most I can give you is an A for effort, better luck next time.”_

 

Dante glared daggers at the vampire, and decided not to explain how long it had taken him to find his shoes, which had been hiding under his jacket by the door the entire time. He’d have been pretty useless in a scrap as he was, but none of that had been his priority half an hour ago.

 

_“Probably not as fun as arcade games...”_

 

Dante did a double-take, again thinking that the vampire must do this shit on purpose once in a while. Not often enough to make Dante think he meant it, but often enough to keep him guessing for sure. But, oh how badly he wanted to take those words as something else. The way he would have meant them if their positions were reversed.

 

_“...Are...you worried about a serial killer or stalker coming after me? I don’t think the descendant of an old friend would be planning on axe murdering me, if that makes you feel better. Obviously Gabe isn’t Dave, but they...feel similar. If that makes sense? I also don’t think he’s one of ‘those psychos’ but then I’ve been wrong before, on occasion.”_

 

“I’m worried everyone and their grandma is coming after us right about now,” Dante grumbled, knowing Alex wasn’t taking his concern seriously in this particular instance. Maybe because it was equal parts concern and blind, senseless jealousy of the sort he didn’t feel like explaining. He couldn’t explain it, because he didn’t understand it himself. He sighed heavily, ruffling his already-messy hair in a vain attempt to focus.

 

 _“You’re_ adorable _like this… I guess at least you’re not an angry drunk..”_

 

“Gotta drink more often if that’s what you think,” Dante thought he did a pretty good job of sounding nonchalant, but something about the comment really hit him in the drunken feels. Even as he said it, he was reminded of all the reasons he didn’t--couldn’t--drink around Alex. He just hoped he could make it through the night, and tomorrow’s hangover, without embarrassing himself beyond the obvious stumbling and slurring. He figured it wasn’t worth mentioning that from his past limited experience, he was mostly a sad drunk.

 

_“I can’t die of old age... To be fair, I think he might have advised me to let you drink and I might have said something about undead Nazis, but that’s neither here nor there.”_

 

“Aw, no, a a bartender wants you to keep me drinking… that’s a shock,” Dante returned flatly, even while a small part of him wondered if Rafter had been harboring some ulterior motives with that one. Apparently even toasted off his ass, Dante was still paranoid. “You know, he’s gonna keep bugging you until you tell him all your Nazi stories…”

 

_“Oh, so you think I’m cute now? I’m sure you’ll think I’m less cute tomorrow when you’re hungover and have to deal with robbing my grave with me.”_

 

Dante had to physically bite his lip to keep from answering out loud, because it would be something along the lines of ' _cute, no, hot, always,_ ' and he still was nowhere near drunk enough to explain away an admission like that.

 

_“Mind if I unpack? Actually, I’ll take some of Rafter’s life advice… I’ll unpack and you can carry on researching witches.”_

 

“Ohhh, great,” Dante was only half-paying attention to what Alex was doing already elbow-deep in a new page of scribbled seals, “now you’re taking his advice… you’re gonna be arm-wrestling demons over a pool table by sunrise...” While the distant, sober part of him should have been surprised at Alex’s sudden assertiveness, he part of him that was drunk and distracted found it immensely relieving. Another battle he didn’t have to fight.

 

“I wish I knew more about this shit,” Dante continued talking mostly to himself, “I know it won’t work for just anyone, like you gotta have some juice in the tank. I just don’t know if there’s actually a way for us to use them, or counter or block them…” his mind quickly jumping to a new tangent, he straightened slightly. “Did you know there’s like infinite sources of magic witches can use? I mean, nature, blood, your dead ancestors, stars, fire for chrissakes… it’s like there’s no rhyme or reason to it.”

 

“Fucking witches, man….” Dante dove back into his laptop, squinting against the glow of the screen, “whatever happened to old-fashioned knives and bullets? Gotta love the classics.”

 

Dante was hyper-aware that almost all the answers he was looking for were probably in Sadie’s head, but after the uncomfortable conversation with Rafter earlier he wasn’t sure he wasn’t sure what other surprises were waiting for him. At the very least, he didn’t want to come begging for help without some idea of what he was talking about, or even looking for. He could at least try to bypass some of the cryptic foreshadowing that seemed to be a witch’s trademark.

 

Alternatively, he could always ask Isaac for help if he ended up in a tight spot, but the thought wasn’t exactly appealing. Knowing Isaac he’d probably try to trade information for a blowjob or something.

 

“We need… a list,” Dante nodded to himself, rambling aloud to orient himself to what he was doing. “Yup. A long one…” He flipped over the page he’d been tracing the seal repetitively on, popping open a pen cap with his mouth and starting to write. He was distracted from that almost immediately, reaching across the table for the wad of money Rafter had given him earlier. He knocked his old ipod, battery dead now, and a journal off in the process, but didn’t have it in him to care.

 

“Look, Rafter hawked the car for us,” he held up the bundle of cash triumphantly, “apparently people actually buy hot cars for parts around here. So we have some cash for now… I think it’s like two bills, but that’s a start. We can actually get some gear. Maybe find a job for the rest. Oh right, list--” He scribbled down ‘make bullets’ and ‘rob grave,’ which as far as he was concerned was the only way to refer to it despite Alex’s insistence that you couldn’t actually rob your own grave in the first place. “Shit,” he mumbled, trying to squeeze ‘get silver’ in above the making bullets bit, “priorities…”

 

~

 

Some part of Alex regretted how badly their attempt at being normal and playing arcade games had ended. If things had been different he might have tried to talk Dante into doing something like that again. Right now though, between Dante being drunk and Alex feeling like ‘normal’ was asking too much, it seemed like a bad time to try. Still, the thought of talking Dante into going out and doing things, normal things, together again was hard to ignore.

 

_“I’m worried everyone and their grandma is coming after us right about now,”_

 

“Are you saying a legion of old women scare you?” Alex teased gently, “thankfully, oatmeal raisin cookies and hand knitted sweaters won’t kill us.”

 

With the stress and paranoia, combined with just now utterly bizarre things had been since they’d arrived in New York, it was hard to be serious about anything. Under normal circumstances he might have been just as jumpy and paranoid as he was the other night. Right now though, the guild seemed safe and while he couldn’t explain it, Alex knew nothing bad would happen to them here. At the back of his mind, he hoped they could even feel somewhat normal within the walls of the guild.

 

_“Gotta drink more often if that’s what you think,”_

 

“I...would rather you not, to be honest” Alex said after a moment, an edge of seriousness returning to his voice. Here and now seemed the wrong place to launch into how his father would beat him black and blue around this time of night after stumbling home from the bar.

 

_“Aw, no, a a bartender wants you to keep me drinking… that’s a shock.” ... “You know, he’s gonna keep bugging you until you tell him all your Nazi stories…”_

 

“Ah yes, I’m sure all along Rafter’s been trying to convert you into an alcoholic to keep business afloat,” the vampire responded in an equally flat tone. “I should write a book, shouldn’t I? I have a lot of Nazi stories,” Alex mused, looking contemplative for a moment. “Who doesn’t like hearing about a bunch of evil bastards being ripped apart?”

 

_“Ohhh, great, now you’re taking his advice… you’re gonna be arm-wrestling demons over a pool table by sunrise...”_

 

“...Do you want me to arm-wrestle a demon over a pool table?” Alex asked, quirking a brow as he looked over his shoulder at his partner, one of their shopping bags in hand as he dumped the contents onto the bed. “How much are you willing to bet I’d win?”

_“I wish I knew more about this shit, I know it won’t work for just anyone, like you gotta have some juice in the tank. I just don’t know if there’s actually a way for us to use them, or counter or block them…”_

Alex listened, sorting and folding their recently purchased clothing on the bed before finding a set of drawers to put them away. It was a little more domestic than they were used to, but it was normal and that’s really what Alex wanted even if it was just for a short while. With that done, Alex sought out the duffle with their old, torn up clothing. He decided now was a good of a time as any to toss what was beyond saving and store what they could use later once they were out of the city again.

 

_“Did you know there’s like infinite sources of magic witches can use? I mean, nature, blood, your dead ancestors, stars, fire for chrissakes… it’s like there’s no rhyme or reason to it.”_

 

“That makes sense, oddly enough,” Alex replied over his shoulder, creating a pile of clothes to toss and another to save. “Like...obviously a necromancer isn’t going to use the same sort of magic as a Druid, not that I’ve met either, but I suspect it’d be weird to raise the dead with the same magic used to make plants grow.”

 

_“Fucking witches, man….whatever happened to old-fashioned knives and bullets? Gotta love the classics.”_

 

“All the more reason to learn about them,” the vampire responded, “all we have are knives, bullets, and a set of fangs, none of that’s going to cut it if we’re up against witches,” he paused, then shook his head. “Up against witches aligned with hunters who are after us.”

 

Clothing sorted and put away, Alex located a bag filled with toiletries, a lot of it the miniature stuff stocked by hotels. He went into the bathroom and everything out in the counter for Dante to pick through. Returning to the room, Alex pondered going through their weapons, but figured the best place to put them was in a neat and accessible pile by the door. On the off chance they had to arm up and leave fast, it made sense to keep them there.

 

_“We need… a list.” ... “Yup. A long one…”_

 

With Dante going on about a list, Alex took his army green jacket off and draped it over the corner of one of the bedposts. From there he slipped his daggers and their holsters off, laying them out on the dresser. For a long moment he just stood there, staring at them. He couldn’t help but think about the day Vincent gave them to him. Alex had been twenty, a bit impulsive, but deadly with a blade even then. Days before, he’d confessed everything about how he’d felt to Vincent. Rather than getting tossed out onto the streets, or worse, his feelings were reciprocated, which was much more than he could have hoped for at the time.

 

“Look, Rafter hawked the car for us, apparently people actually buy hot cars for parts around here. So we have some cash for now… I think it’s like two bills, but that’s a start. We can actually get some gear. Maybe find a job for the rest. Oh right, list--”

 

“That’s great,” Alex said after a moment, rubbing the back of his forearm across his eyes, for the most part hopeful that Dante might be too drunk to notice his voice was tighter than usual and he didn’t bother turning to look at Dante this time.

 

_“Shit,” ... “priorities…”_

 

“I think I need air,” the vampire said hurriedly, realizing he still felt pretty broken up after his visit to the cemetery. Grabbing his jacket again, with his phone, key, and wallet tucked into the pockets, he headed for the door.

 

Pulling the door open, he let it shut behind him, walking briskly down the hallway back towards the stairs he’d come down earlier. In hindsight, he supposed leaving his daggers was a stupid thing to do, but it was just across the road and it wasn’t as if silver would do a damn thing against a rogue hunter. Climbing the stairs, Alex furiously rubbed at his eyes with the sleeves of his jacket. It was stupid, he knew, to be broken up over a man who’d been dead for decades, but then this was decades of mourning coming up all at once.

 

~

 

_“Are you saying a legion of old women scare you?” ...“thankfully, oatmeal raisin cookies and hand knitted sweaters won’t kill us.”_

“I don’t know,” Dante threw back, “I feel like I could do some serious damage with a set of knitting needles. That’s one for the bucket list.”

 

_“I...would rather you not, to be honest.”_

 

Alex’s tone wasn’t lost on the hunter, and for the first time that night he felt guilty about allowing himself to drink so much. It had been years since he’d actually been drunk, and it was clear the vampire didn’t approve in the slightest. If it had been anyone else, he would have told them in no uncertain terms to get bent. But it wasn’t anyone else. It was Alex, and as always that meant something else altogether.

 

_“Ah yes, I’m sure all along Rafter’s been trying to convert you into an alcoholic to keep business afloat… I should write a book, shouldn’t I? I have a lot of Nazi stories... Who doesn’t like hearing about a bunch of evil bastards being ripped apart?”_

 

“I’d read it,” Dante chimed in, thinking that would probably be a best-seller in no time if Alex actually did sit down and churn it out, “but I’d rather listen to you tell it. More fun that way, really puts you in the action.” He was again a little ashamed when Alex referred to him as an alcoholic, thinking that was a little harsh considering he pretty much never drank. It made him feel even worse for making an exception, stupidly thinking he’d have time to sober up by the time the vampire returned to the guild.

 

_“...Do you want me to arm-wrestle a demon over a pool table? How much are you willing to bet I’d win?”_

 

Dante considered that for a moment, and then decided, “you know I wouldn’t say no to watching that match. My money’s on you, win lose or draw. Gotta stay solid, right?” Not that they had much money left to begin with, even with the earnings from the now-junked car, but he somehow doubted the vampire would lose.

 

Distracted as he was, Dante only distantly tracked Alex’s path as he moved around the large room, opening and shutting drawers and unpacking bags. With the easy, if delayed banter between them, he didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary until Alex was abruptly heading for the door.

 

_“I think I need air.”_

 

Dante looked up a moment too late, catching sight of Alex’s rigid shoulder disappearing through the doorway without looking back.

 

Shit.

 

Dante sat where he was, pen in hand, staring at the door for probably several minutes too long after Alex left, feeling crushed.

 

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled aloud drunkenly at the unmoving slab of green wood. His voice fell flat in the silence around him. He had no idea what, precisely, he was apologizing for. Or even to who, for that matter. The room was empty.

 

Rubbing at his eyes tiredly, he tried to figure out what to do. His first instinct would normally have been to run after Alex and demand answers, but somehow in that moment he felt absolutely certain that it would have been the wrong move. Not that moving at all was exactly an easy task at the moment.

 

Eventually the hunter started to realize his leg was falling asleep where he was sitting on it and he shifted awkwardly, using the table and his upper body to heft himself to his feet. He wobbled unsteadily, and through a great act of will managed to weave his way into the bathroom. He noticed Alex had set out a variety of toiletries from their mismatched bag, and he picked up a half-full bottle of cheap motel shampoo. He ran his thumb over the label and set it back down carefully, his chest aching.

 

He tried to think back to what he might have said to upset Alex, and to be fair, in his inebriated state he had said a lot. His mind had been almost obsessively focused on slotting the jigsaw pieces of their current situation into something that made sense, but he’d also been pissed off for pretty much no reason that Alex had been hit on over the course of his lone adventure. He felt a little ashamed of that, acting like some kind of jealous boyfriend with someone who considered him a friend at most. Maybe even just a partner.

 

Leaning down, Dante cranked the water as cold as he could stand and doused his face, huffing a little at the shock. Well at least now he was awake, if not sober.

 

After coming to the conclusion that cold water wasn’t going to make him any steadier on his feet, the hunter returned to the coffee table. He clumsily picked up the various pens and papers he’d scattered across the floor, doing his best to make a neat pile on top of his shut laptop. He shifted and adjusted the pile into a right angle with the corner of the table, an old habit made rather difficult by the effects of alcohol. He even carefully wrapped the shitty earbuds around the ipod and set that on top like a bow on a package, careful not to bend the charging cable plugged into his laptop. He thought the small bit of restored order might make him feel better, but it didn’t.

 

“No more alcohol for you,” he slurred aloud for no reason, maybe because he just wanted to hear a voice. “Just when you thought you couldn’t piss people off any more, there you go… breaking records.”

 

He glanced reluctantly at the door. Alex still wasn’t back. A chill crept up his spine that he couldn’t blame on the sink water, an ever-lingering doubt that seemed to settle every time the door closed between him and the vampire. Alex’s knives were sitting by the door, so Dante could only hope he hadn’t run off somewhere he might need them.

 

His fingers clumsy and numb, Dante reached down and tugged his abandoned silver crucifix out of where it had fallen between two of the overstuffed cushions. Looking at it now left him with a sour taste in his mouth, all anger and shame and disgust. Without even thinking about what he was doing, he pulled his arm back and threw it against the wall with as much strength as he could muster. He listened to it clatter to the floor somewhere in the shadows and dropped his head into his hands. He was hopelessly angry with himself, because it had been hard enough fighting off loneliness like a tweaker in withdrawal while Alex had been gone only temporarily. This was so much worse.

 

A few minutes later, when he couldn’t take the empty silence a second longer, Dante padded out into the hallway. He wasn’t entirely sure where he was going; maybe some part of him hoped that Alex hadn’t made it far. After several twists and turns down winding hallways, he came to the inevitable conclusion that he was lost. Very lost.

 

“Dante?” A voice from down the hallway caught his attention and he looked up, squinting a tall figure in dark clothes into focus. It was Isaac, he realized after a beat, standing at a doorway with his key in one hand and that same dark duffel in the other.

 

“Looking for me?” Isaac sounded amused, his eyes dragging up and down the hunter with the same effect as an unwelcome hand, “thought the day would never come.”

 

“Ah, fuck…” Dante hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but he was frustrated to run into the one person he didn’t have the energy to deal with at the moment. “Not now, Isaac…” He kept to the far side of the narrow hall, braced with one hand as he shuffled forward. He was determined to make his way past the witch and keep walking like he wasn’t there.

 

“Hold up,” Isaac reached out and caught his arm, effectively stopping him, “looking a little worse for wear there, hunter. Where on earth are you going?”

 

Dante tugged his arm away, scowling. “Anywhere but here, apparently. I don’t have time for your shit right now, okay?”

 

Isaac held both hands up in a placating gesture, and for the first time Dante saw him frown like he was concerned. “Easy, alright? I didn’t mean any harm. But to be fair, you are wandering around in your socks mate. Doesn’t exactly paint a picture of a guy who has his life together.”

 

Dante looked down, realizing that he was indeed wearing only socks, his shoes probably under the bed somewhere where he’d kicked them off. He sighed heavily, finally admitting, “I’m... kinda drunk. No jokes, alright? Just been a long night.”

 

“I can see that,” Isaac’s tone was measured and careful, like he didn’t want to scare Dante off. “Why don’t you come on in, we can catch up.”

 

“Oh yeah, I’m following you drunk into a hotel room,” thankfully Dante wasn’t intoxicated enough for that to sound like a smart plan, “you’d enjoy that.”

 

“Under different circumstances? Absolutely,” Isaac didn’t bother denying the implication, “I’d enjoy it immensely. But let’s face it, you look a mess. I doubt either one of us would have the time of our lives like this.”

 

Dante bristled a little, but his head was hurting and his chest was hurting and he honestly just didn’t have any energy left. His confidence wavered long enough to give Isaac an unspoken answer.

 

Finishing unlocking his door, Isaac dropped his duffel bag inside the doorway and stripped his long coat and gloves off, laying them on top of it before shutting the door again. He locked it and slipped the key into his pocket. “Come on,” he gestured down the hallway, “there’s a library down the hall. You can bum a smoke if you like. You do still smoke, don’t you?”

 

Dante nodded mutely, and followed Isaac because he seemed like he knew what he was doing and the only alternative was wandering the halls alone until he ran out of steam. He felt his pockets carefully, realizing his phone was in the wind somewhere, and he still had his key but he was almost positive he hadn’t locked the door. He hoped they locked on their own somehow. Dante didn’t figure the forgotten phone would be much of an issue anyways, since apparently Alex didn’t want to call him. Or text.

 

Isaac lead him a short distance to a large, open arched doorway. Inside the tall walls were lined with old books and plush couches. A fire crackled in a massive stone hearth that took up the entire end of the room. Dante stared for a moment, trying to pinpoint what he was seeing. The room seemed to throb and hum with a warm energy, but it was warm and welcoming and blessedly quiet.

 

He watched Isaac stride across the room like he knew it well, cutting an impressive figure in fitted black jeans and a form-fitting turtleneck, like some kind of European model. The witch had always had a penchant for expensive clothes. Isaac sank gracefully into the cushions at the far end of a dark leather couch, looking expectantly at Dante and then at the couch next to him as he slid a black snakeskin cigarette case out of his front pocket.

 

Finally convinced by the allure of nicotine, if nothing else, Dante sat on the couch opposite the witch, making sure to leave a cushion of space between them. Isaac chuckled at the obviousness of the gesture, and tossed Dante his lighter when he was finished with it. The cigarette case followed. Isaac moved the ashtray on the table closer to them with a lazy flick of his wrist, a gesture of magic Dante didn't miss. Isaac had always chosen to use his tricks casually, something he knew most witches frowned on.

 

“Now then,” Isaac settled back, one arm on the back of the couch as he turned his body and attention towards Dante, “Enough with the strong and silent act. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you take a drink, so something’s eating you. Why don’t you tell me all about it.”

 

~

 

_“I don’t know. I feel like I could do some serious damage with a set of knitting needles. That’s one for the bucket list.”_

 

“You most certainly can do serious damage with a set of knitting needles,” Alex replied in a tone indicating there was a personal experience story there, but he didn’t elaborate. “Might be a bit difficult to kill with them though.”

 

_“I’d read it, but I’d rather listen to you tell it. More fun that way, really puts you in the action.”_

 

There was a sort of warmth in Alex’s chest at the thought that Dante would read a book if he wrote one. Perhaps he would, one day, maybe the day when Dante reached retirement age. Alex had no doubt they’d really have much peace before then, every day being a constant rush followed by a crash, lather, rinse, repeat. The fact that Dante apparently would rather listen to the story made his stomach flutter in a way he knew wasn’t good considering the hunter wasn’t interested in him as far as he could tell.

 

_“You know I wouldn’t say no to watching that match. My money’s on you, win lose or draw. Gotta stay solid, right?”_

 

So not only would Dante read or listen to a story from him, but he was also willing to bet on him in an arm wrestling match against a demon. Alex couldn’t help the soft laugh that followed, not even sure how well arm wrestling a demon would go over at all. He figured he was stronger than a demon in terms of brute strength, on average, when he was fed and not healing up from something. Then again, he didn’t trust a demon to not do something unethical to win.

 

~~~

 

Once he was out of the room, up the stairs, in the bar, then out the front door, Alex briefly wondered what exactly he was doing. He felt as if he’d been suffocating, holding back tears and sobs all because he didn’t want Dante to see him lose his composure. If Dante was all fire, then Alex was sure he was all water, right now in particular.

 

Stepping into the cool night air, Alex contemplated what to do. It was a long way from here to anywhere for him. Queen’s hadn’t been his home even when alive. The streets of the Lower East Side of Manhattan and the entirety of Brooklyn had been what he’d know when he’d lived here. Still, looking out over the harbor, he could make out the island he’d been born on over a hundred years ago.

 

Leaving the bar behind, Alex walked until he was at the boardwalk they’d passed on their way to Rafter’s earlier. It was strange, to realize so much had happened in one night, in the span of a few hours. Right now Alex just felt dizzy, nauseated and maybe even a bit disoriented with how his thoughts and feelings were battling each other. The worst part was he wasn’t sure which set of emotions were going to win out here.

 

At the edge of the boardwalk, Alex plopped down, letting his feet dangle over the edge and leaning back while supporting himself with his palms against the gritty planks. He eyed the water below, the smell of salt was strong in the air, as was the smell of millions of humans crammed into a few miles of urbanized land. It wasn’t the best smell in the world, but it was different, raw, something both familiar and unfamiliar to him. The vampire hadn’t breathed this air since Vincent had last been alive, since they’d last been together. Here though, in Queens ninety odd years later, it was so very different in a way he had no way to articulate.

 

For a while he sat there, looking out into the distance and regretting his life choices. The choices in question happened to be running away from Vincent after an argument and then refusing to return lest he put Vincent in harm’s way. The argument had been idiotic, born out of Vincent’s protectiveness and Alex wanting to be independent. Refusing to return had been wiser, as Alex knew Nikolai would have used Vincent to hurt him, and yet... With perspective, Alex wondered if it would have been worth it for a few years more together before his sire came to collect.

 

Lost in thought and regret, he failed to notice something approaching him. As soon as warm fur brushed against his wrist, Alex almost jumped off the boardwalk and into the water. Instead, he jerked to the side and twisted to get a better look at the creature that had brushed up against him. He could hear a heartbeat and other signs of life and silently berated himself for getting distracted. Any other time he would have heard the kitten coming from a mile away, but apparently tonight wasn’t his night.

 

“You startled me,” he murmured, reaching out and petting the tiny black kitten. “Apparently it’s not grandmas with knitting needles I need to worry about, but small, fluffy animals.”

 

The kitten purred when Alex reached out and petted it and overall seemed responsive enough to him. Casually, Alex reached out and scooped the creature up, more than happy to have something keeping him company while he wallowed in self pity. For now, the sound of a heartbeat and purring was grounding enough to keep him somewhat grounded.

 

“I’m so stupid,” he said to no one but the kitten he set in his lap. “It’s been... ninety-five years since I ruined everything and it’s taken me this long to...” he trailed off, throat fighting as a wave of sorrow struck him. “Almost a hundred years to mourn and I choose now to do it.”

 

A good minute passed as Alex just sat there, idly petting and scratching behind the kitten’s ears. The creature would occasionally look up at him, sometimes its ears would flicker a bit when he spoke, but otherwise it seemed content to just sit there.

 

“And you know, that’s not even the worst part,” he continued, causing the kitten’s ears to perk up in a way that should have been suspect, but Alex was much too distracted. “The worst part is I’m hopelessly in love with the stupidest smart person I know and...he just isn’t even mildly interested in me. ...No, even that’s not the worst part, the worst part is I feel like I’m somehow betraying Vincent by feeling this way.”

 

Alex paused, his hand resting on the kitten’s back, just feeling the rise and fall of it breathing, it’s heart pumping.

 

“Two stubborn hot-heads, don’t I know how to pick ‘em,” he grumbled to himself, not entirely sure if he felt better.

 

For a long while, Alex just sat there. He wasn’t even entirely sure what time it was, only that it was probably getting early. Sighing, he set the kitten back down and moved to stand. It made sense to head back now, given that it was maybe an hour or two away from sunrise.

 

“It’s been nice talking to you,” Alex said to the kitten, because talking to himself would have been a sure sign of insanity. “But I have to go and make sure the stupidest smart person I know doesn’t stumble off and get himself killed or severely injured without me.”

 

With those parting words, Alex started the short trek back to the guild. For the most part, nothing happened on his way back, though the entire time he couldn’t shake the feeling of something being off. If he were to be honest with himself though, it had been a long while since things had felt anything other than off. Still, after having a kitten sneak up on him, he made a point of being vigilant, his eyes lingering on alleyways and anywhere a threat could hide. It was paranoid, but he had realized at some point he was unarmed and had way too many things out to get him and his partner.

 

Once he’d made it to the guild, he went inside, then down into the bar and down again into the corridors where their room was located. Walking briskly, he found the familiar green door and went to unlock it, only to find it already unlocked. Startled, his sense went into overdrive, he could smell smoke and leather, but not in their room. As much as he wanted to find Dante, he wasn’t sure if now was the time. Alex wasn’t in a great place emotionally and wasn’t sure if Dante’s moods would make it any better. That and he was sure as long as Dante was in the guild, he was safe.

 

Stepping into the room, Alex noted the minor changes, but then his eyes fell on the wall that displayed a forest somewhere. Approaching, Alex examined it, taking note of the stone that looked different from all the others. He reached out and touched it, only a little startled when the scenery changed. Eyes widening, he repeated the gesture, shifting through a number of views before pausing at what looked like a bonfire.

 

Sitting back on the bed, Alex watched it for a long moment. It was soothing, in a way, and while he couldn’t sleep he was still going to try to wind down regardless. Moving around the bed, Alex reached for where he’d left his journal on the nightstand during his unpacking. The vampire picked it up along with the pen it came with before resting on his front to write out all that had taken place so far.

 

By sunrise, Alex felt better, not so heartbroken and relaxed enough to coherently write out the events since Dante and him left their last hotel.

 

~

 

Dante woke up an indeterminate amount of time later, his neck bent awkwardly against an unfamiliar couch cushion. He blinked owlishly, looking around and taking a moment too long to remember where the hell he was. The fire still roared peacefully, warming the room. A dark wool jacket was draped over him and he frowned as he ran his thumb over the lush material. It smelled like expensive cologne.

 

Slowly pulling the jacket off, he set it on the couch next to him, realizing he was alone now but definitely hadn’t been when he’d nodded off. The ashtray on the table was crowded with cigarette butts, all long gone cold. Dragging a hand roughly over his face, he sat up straighter. He was definitely still feeling the alcohol, but the effects weren’t nearly as overwhelming as they had been earlier in the night. He knew he’d spent time, hours it felt, talking with Isaac, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember any of it. He was still exhausted.

 

There was a slip of crisp white paper on the cushion beside him, a neatly hand-drawn map displayed in black ink. He studied it, realizing it was a rough map from the library where he’d fallen asleep back to his own room. He found himself surprised, both at the jacket and the note, oddly touching gestures from someone he remembered primarily as inherently selfish and arrogant.

 

He left Isaac’s jacket hanging on the doorknob of what he hoped was the right room. At least the architect of his crude post-it note map had left an asterisk starring it, so he assumed that was the general idea. The hunter made it back to the emerald green door and could only stand there, staring at it, for what felt like ages. He was terrified the room would be empty. He was terrified it wouldn’t.

 

When he finally summoned the courage to open the door and enter, he immediately spotted Alex sitting on the bed, his journal in his hands.

 

“You’re back,” the hunter remarked, feeling surprised and relieved. He tried to keep his tone neutral even while his voice was rough with disuse. He noticed the bonfire scene flickering on the illusion wall, oddly comforting.

 

Not knowing what else to say, he glanced back at the vampire uncertainly before moving over to where he’d left his jacket and fishing out his cellphone. He didn’t really need it, but having it where he could reach it felt a little more comforting.

 

Still having no idea what, if anything, he should say, Dante shuffled into the bathroom to brush the taste of cigarettes from his mouth. He stripped off his jeans, socks, and t-shirt, folding them clumsily before brining the pile out to the room with him and setting them on the dresser for later. He found his shoes, one partially under the bed and the other upside-down against the wall, and set them in a careful pair under the bed. Alex going through the trouble of unpacking their gear wasn’t a gesture that was lost on him. Despite the baggage they were both sorting through being back on familiar ground, it probably wouldn’t be a bad idea to stay for a while. For the first time in a long time, they were safe.

 

Dante circled to the far side of the bed and sat, stretching out his legs and pushing his head back against a pillow that was a lot softer than he’d expected. He knew he needed to get some more sleep, but he also didn’t want to leave things as strained as they were with his partner. His eyes flickered over to him, and he thought of the many things he might be able to say. Nothing felt right.

 

“Sorry,” was all that slipped out. “I’m not a mind-reader, but I’m sure I deserve you being pissed off at me. Won’t drink anymore.” Thinking that about summarized the tip of the proverbial iceberg, he shifted his gaze up to the rough hewn-rock ceiling. He was sure he could cobble together a more thorough apology later, but for the moment he was tired, confused, hurt, and guilty for reasons he couldn’t figure out. He didn’t want to make things worse, and if he had to swallow his pride to make sure of that, he would.

 

~

 

_“You’re back,”_

 

“Was...I not supposed to be?” The question had been intended on being light, almost joking, but there was a note of hurt and uncertainty in Alex’s voice when he asked.

 

For too long of a moment, Alex didn’t say anything as Dante moved around the room getting his phone before disappearing into the bathroom. Baffled, unsure what to do or say, Alex finished off what he had been writing before blowing on the page to dry the ink before closing his journal up and setting it on the nightstand with the pen neatly stacked on top.

 

While Dante was brushing his teeth from the sounds of it, Alex was wondering just how to handle the situation when his partner came back out. Between his feelings of loss and how testy Dante had been last night it had been more than he could handle. Not to mention, he couldn’t get over the feeling as if he’d done something wrong, though he couldn’t imagine what other than going out by himself and not answering his phone. Either way, all of it had been too much and thinking about Vincent while listening to Dante’s ramblings had been just a little too much at the time. So getting out to clear his head again had seemed like the only solution, but now he was wondering if he did something wrong by doing that too.

 

Quietly, not wanting to be the one to break the silence lest he fuck up again, Alex just watched as Dante put his things away. It was surprising really, Alex almost half expected Dante to want to get back on the road as soon as possible. The other night he’d even been somewhat pleasantly surprised Dante didn’t protest him unpacking. The upside, of course, was not having to argue over staying or leaving soon, since it seemed they were in agreement.

 

When Dante finally sat on the bed, though on his side, Alex felt a little less strained. If Dante were actually pissed at him, Alex was sure he wouldn’t have taken a seat on the same bed as him. Before he could blurt out an apology, for whatever it was that he’d done, whether it was the stupid phone mishap or something, Dante spoke first.

 

_“Sorry,” ... “I’m not a mind-reader, but I’m sure I deserve you being pissed off at me. Won’t drink anymore.”_

 

Alex blinked, not entirely sure he heard his partner right the first time. While he certainly didn’t like Dante drinking that much, he wasn’t necessarily angry about it or anything. Running his hands through his hair, Alex tried to process what he was actually hearing.

 

“I’m not pissed at you,” Alex stated, looking increasingly confused. “I thought you were pissed at me about something,” he admitted a moment later, letting his hands fall into his lap where he stared at them for a long moment.

 

There was a pause on the vampire’s end as Alex mulled over the statement about drinking, not sure how to even unwrap, unpack, and display all of that, or if he even wanted to, though right now was a good a time as any he supposed. Giving Dante a sidelong glance, Alex sighed, wanting to spill everything that was bothering him, but not sure if he should.

 

“You don’t need to be sorry, I just had a lot on my mind last night,” he was insistent now, worried his hard-headed partner would beat himself up over nothing. “I’m not a fan of you drinking, but that’s just... I just have a bad history with someone getting a little too drunk, but you’re nothing like him, so...it shouldn’t matter...” Alex trailed off.

 

~

 

_“I’m not pissed at you, I thought you were pissed at me about something.”_

 

Dante rubbed at his aching eyes, hard. Of course he wasn’t going to get anything close to a straight answer. He knew he’d been a little testy about Alex getting a bunch of random phone numbers on his foray into the city, but Alex hadn’t even seemed to take him seriously at the time. Not that he ever really did.

 

_“You don’t need to be sorry, I just had a lot on my mind last night… I’m not a fan of you drinking, but that’s just... I just have a bad history with someone getting a little too drunk, but you’re nothing like him, so...it shouldn’t matter...”_

 

Dante grit his teeth, feeling a flash of irritation at being compared to someone like that. “Yeah, we already went over my impending alcoholism,” he muttered flatly at the ceiling to hide how bad that stung. “Message received. There’s a reason I never drank around you.”

 

That definitely wasn’t the actual reason, but it was apparently about to be. His own father had been terrifying sober, let alone with any amount of alcohol in his system, so he sympathized more than the vampire could understand.. He just didn’t understand what about him had given Alex that impression. It made him doubt everything.

 

“You know being here isn’t easy for me either,” he admitted finally, wondering why it was so hard to say out loud. “Maybe I don’t have a half-dozen decades of history here, and I get that. But I feel like whatever’s eating at us, we shouldn’t be taking it out on each other. We’ve got enough enemies already.”

 

He felt deflated, despite his earlier excitement at figuring out how to cut through some of the ominous fog that was surrounding them at every turn. None of that really seemed to matter now, when Alex apparently saw him as some kind of monster and the shadows of the past were looking more and more welcoming. Dante was hyper-aware of the fact that while there was nothing happy in the past for him, no good memories or welcoming safe harbors, that wasn't the case for Alex. There were people he missed, people he'd loved. Still did. If the vampire could have even a small part of that back, Dante couldn't say he blamed him.

 

“Whatever you gotta do, you know I’ll help you out…” Dante muttered, “whether you wanna dig up empty coffins or go on a manhunt for a super-coven...” Just don’t go running out on me, was what he wanted to say next, but he knew that wouldn’t sound right. It would sound too honest, too real.

 

“Just keep me in the loop,” he finished instead after a pause, his depleted energy leaving a heavy sadness in its wake. He’d felt so unsettled about the idea of coming to New York, and maybe this was exactly why. The dread and reluctance he hadn’t been able to pinpoint before. Because Alex was out reconnecting with the people and places he’d once known so well, and by comparison Dante was just a dead weight holding him down.

 

It seemed like only a matter of time before Alex figured that out, if he hadn’t already.

 

~

 

_“Yeah, we already went over my impending alcoholism,” ... “Message received. There’s a reason I never drank around you.”_

 

For a moment, just the fact that Dante was gritting his teeth had Alex feeling like he misspoke. A moment later, his partner’s flat reply was a solid indication Alex had, in fact, misspoke and gave the hunter the wrong impression.

 

“I-, that’s not what I meant,” Alex said, his brow furrowing as he tried to think of the best way to fix the problem or explain it better. Right now though, he was pretty sure he’d only succeed in making it worse or run the risk of Dante misunderstanding him. “Message not received, I don’t think you’re an alcoholic and I’m glad you finally drank around me so I know you’re not...not like...” Even as the words tried to form, Alex couldn’t imagine a man further from what his father was like than Dante. “You’re too good to be anything like that.”

 

Alex wasn’t entirely sure where to go, he was almost glad Dante was maybe a bit moody when drunk, rambling on about things and jumping from topic to topic. It was certainly better than an angry violent drunk, but then at the core of his being, he’d never really thought Dante would be like that. He actually almost wished Dante were a happy drunk, but he wasn’t about to voice that thought.

 

_“You know being here isn’t easy for me either,” ... We’ve got enough enemies already.”_

 

A soft sigh was Alex’s immediate response as he slumped back against the pillows on his side of the bed. It had been cathartic to hear Dante admitting being here wasn’t easy for him, as if Alex himself wasn’t suffering alone. Alex also couldn’t agree more that they had enough enemies and the last person they should be taking anything out on was each other.

 

“You’re right,” the vampire breathed, feeling exhausted in a way that had no bearing on his physical body.

 

_“Whatever you gotta do, you know I’ll help you out…whether you wanna dig up empty coffins or go on a manhunt for a super-coven...”_

 

“I don’t...really know what I have to do to be honest,” Alex admitted, still reeling from the sucker punch that last night had been from their too real conversation in their last hotel room up until Alex had run out. “I do think robbing my own grave is a good place to start, but mostly because a psychic told me we’re doing it. After that...” the vampire once again trailed off, wishing he could offer more. “Oh, you were making a list right? Silver, bullets, and cash are all great, not to mention a way to break that seal if it pops up again...”

 

It was easy to slip back into planning, strategizing, like moving chess pieces across a board. It was certainly easier than dealing with the slurry of emotions plaguing the vampire. Thinking of what they needed to do, and how to accomplish it, was just like fighting another war, just a war of them against everything else. For a moment, Alex let that thought settle, the idea that it was them versus the world was comforting in a way he knew it shouldn’t be. They were outnumbered, possibly outclassed, and their enemies were closing in and yet, knowing they were together felt like enough.

 

_“Just keep me in the loop,”_

 

“Always,” Alex murmured, mostly to himself, then turned to look over at his partner, unable to keep the small smile from playing across his lips. “You should sleep, you look exhausted,” he commented, silently wishing Dante could stay up with him. “Unless you want me to ‘keep you in the loop’ with a long, boring story of what it was like ‘back in the day’ or whatever it is you kids are calling it.”

 

~

 

_“I-, that’s not what I meant… Message not received, I don’t think you’re an alcoholic and I’m glad you finally drank around me so I know you’re not...not like… You’re too good to be anything like that.”_

 

Dante could only swallow the lump in his throat and nod, even if the vampire couldn’t see the gesture. He wanted to believe that, but didn’t know if he did. If he ever would. “Playing a little fast and loose with the word ‘good,’” he couldn’t resist biting out, “but it doesn’t matter. Drinking’s a stupid idea when the world’s out for our hides.”

 

_“I don’t...really know what I have to do to be honest... I do think robbing my own grave is a good place to start, but mostly because a psychic told me we’re doing it. After that...”_

 

Dante breathed out heavily, knowing that despite all that they really didn’t have a gameplan. If following some kind of strange psychic around was the name of the game these days, he guessed the least he could do was go along with it. Whatever misgivings he had, he was willing to ignore them to stay by Alex’s side.

 

_“Oh, you were making a list right? Silver, bullets, and cash are all great, not to mention a way to break that seal if it pops up again...”_

 

Dante laughed quietly, recognizing the subject change for what it was. “Yeah, uh, as for breaking that seal… I might need to call in the big guns on that one. Seemed kinda rude to throw a whole bunch of questions about witchy business at Sadie right off the bat. But something tells me she already knows we’re here hunting for answers.”

 

_“You should sleep, you look exhausted… Unless you want me to ‘keep you in the loop’ with a long, boring story of what it was like ‘back in the day’ or whatever it is you kids are calling it.”_

 

Dante smiled, knowing he probably only looked about as tired as he felt. “Can I see what’s behind door number two?” he only half-joked, hoping Alex would make good on that. “Long as you don’t think I’m being rude if I pass out on you…”

 

He figured that was a very real possibility. The same sleep that had eluded him in Alex’s absence was tugging at his mind now that he was back, prodding him to rest in the presence of the only person he truly felt safe around. Sleep had been an elusive thing for him since long before he’d ever met the vampire. Alex dogged him constantly about not getting enough rest, little knowing that in reality Dante got more rest now than he ever had in the years before their partnership. Of course, there was no way to explain that without involving his complex feelings, so he didn’t try.

 


	9. Almost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night preparations and no one is lowkey.

_“Playing a little fast and loose with the word ‘good,’ but it doesn’t matter. Drinking’s a stupid idea when the world’s out for our hides.”_

 

When Dante spoke, Alex wondered for a moment if the hunter’s statement had anything to do with their earlier conversation about what growing up with the hunter cult of crazies was like. Either way, now seemed the wrong time to pursue that line of thinking and Alex doubted with the current mood Dante would be all for it.

 

_“Yeah, uh, as for breaking that seal… I might need to call in the big guns on that one. ... But something tells me she already knows we’re here hunting for answers.”_

 

“It’s only rude if you do it impolitely,” Alex quipped, “but maybe just one magic thing at a time? Personally I’m mostly worried about the seal, because based on your ramblings earlier, the psycho cult has to know we’re in New York and I don’t think that’s the last we’ll see of that seal.” Glancing over at Dante, Alex continued, “I’m sure you know why I don’t want to deal with it again without having a way out or a way for you to break it.”

 

Another question that still bothered Alex was why not simply kill him. If Dante’s old church was so against them working together, it seemed like a well placed silver bullet or a crossbow bolt would have been the easiest solution. Right then though, Alex doubted Dante had the answer to that question just yet. All things considered he was more worried about counterplans and solutions than the motives behind why the church did what they did.

 

_“Can I see what’s behind door number two?” ... “Long as you don’t think I’m being rude if I pass out on you…”_

 

“It’s only rude if you do it impolitely,” Alex repeated, a little more humorously this time. “I’d actually be thrilled in this case if one of my stories put you to sleep.”

 

Alex had hoped to maybe reveal the exact nature of his and Vincent’s relationship prior to heading back to the cemetery. It would explain the proximity of their graves and the inscription on Alex’s, which he hoped didn’t raise questions. Given that Dante had essentially revealed his own orientation the other night, it seemed less like a concern now. Still, he felt as if he were keeping something from his partner even if it was something so minuscule. The last thing he wanted was for Dante to get it into his head that Alex didn’t trust him.

 

“I don’t think I’ve told you about how I learned to pick locks,” the vampire said finally.

 

Thinking back, Alex realized he never bothered to explain to Dante how he knew how to do all kinds of semi-criminal things by the time they met. He supposed it could have been written off as simply living a long and dangerous life. A lot of his skills were easily hand waved as things learned over the course of two wars, but that wasn’t entirely accurate. Alex had known how to handle a gun and stitch up wounds long before any of that.

 

“Hopefully you remember how I learned how to hotwire a car, because you were there,” Alex said, unable to keep the smile out of his voice. Hotwiring vehicles hadn’t been in his repertoire by the time they met, though he’d been stealing them as long as people have been careless enough to leave the keys inside. “You’re still much quicker at it, obviously.”

 

“Anyway, locks,” he started, getting back on track. “So when I was around 14 or 15...you know that age when teenagers think they’re being cute, but really they’re just being obnoxious? I was around that age when I’d bother Vincent while he was working,” there was a pause as Alex contemplated an explanation, but decided against it. “Usually this was after I’d spent all morning being lectured on classical philosophy, civics, scientific theorems or whatever Aristotle wanted to throw at me, which meant I was somewhat hyperactive after.”

 

For all the bloodshed and violence Vincent’s line of work was involved in, he did have actually semi-legitimate ventures that occasionally were benefited by them being on the wrong side of the law. That did mean paperwork and time spent in an office working, unfortunately. Right now though, that revealed more than he was ready to reveal and he decided it wasn’t important to what he was telling Dante right away.

 

“The first few times he’d just kick me out, but I’d wander back in and then after maybe the tenth time or something he just handcuffed me to the staircase bannister outside of his office.” As Alex spoke, there seemed to be an air of amusement to his voice, “I was pissed when he did it the first time, but I couldn’t help but keep bothering him,” if Alex were to be honest, it was because he’d already started developing a stupid, silly, hero worshiping crush.

 

“Eventually, I started keeping a hair pin on me, which didn’t work as well as I’d expected the first time, I think it took me an hour to get free on my own.” For a moment, Alex felt was if he might slip too far down memory lane again, which was something he wasn’t ready to do just yet. “After a while I got better at it though and even took to practicing on other locks, rather than distracting Vincent, which I think was his goal all along.”

 

~

 

_"Personally I’m mostly worried about the seal… I’m sure you know why I don’t want to deal with it again without having a way out or a way for you to break it.”_

 

“Seal’s a place to start, anyways,” Dante agreed, “how hard can it be… interrupt a little old world voodoo. Sounds like a blast.” He wasn’t looking forward to it, partly in thanks to his skepticism when it came to all things magic, but he was already convinced that if anyone could make him a true believe it was probably Sadie. He’d already seen more bizarre magic over the past several hours than he had in his entire lifetime combined.

 

_“It’s only rude if you do it impolitely… I’d actually be thrilled in this case if one of my stories put you to sleep.”_

 

“Weird thing to wish for, but I ain’t complaining.” Dante grabbed one of the approximately thousand folded blankets off the foot of the bed, throwing it over his legs. The flow of phantom firelight was dancing pleasantly across the room, the effect almost hypnotic.

 

_“I don’t think I’ve told you about how I learned to pick locks...”_

 

Dante grunted, thinking it must be a good story if it started with that line.

 

_“Hopefully you remember how I learned how to hotwire a car, because you were there… You’re still much quicker at it, obviously.”_

 

Dante smirked tiredly, “how many cars you think we’ve boosted the last couple years combined,” he wondered aloud, “fifty, a hundred? Shoulda kept count for the history books.” He doubted he'd be quicker than Alex at anything for very long. Downside of being mortal.

 

_“Anyway, locks...So when I was around 14 or 15... Usually this was after I’d spent all morning being lectured on classical philosophy, civics, scientific theorems or whatever Aristotle wanted to throw at me, which meant I was somewhat hyperactive after.”_

 

“Nothing like a little light reading,” Dante couldn’t help commenting, eyebrows raised. “Aristotle?”

 

_“The first few times he’d just kick me out, but I’d wander back in and then after maybe the tenth time or something he just handcuffed me to the staircase bannister outside of his office…” ... "After a while I got better at it though and even took to practicing on other locks, rather than distracting Vincent, which I think was his goal all along.”_

 

On his side with his arm curled under his head, Dante stared through half-lidded eyes at his partner’s profile, listening to everything that was said and everything that wasn’t. It wasn’t hard to imagine Alex bored and making trouble. On the other hand, it was difficult to imagine him young, a child or even a teenager.

 

“Sounds effective,” the hunter was tired enough his words were slurring slightly. He was thinking about the way Alex spoke when it came to Vincent, about the way his crimson eyes looked distant and warm. It stirred up everything in him that felt more than he should, wanted more than he deserved. The part that wished Alex felt that way about him, instead.

 

“So… when did you fall in love with him?” Dante asked without accusation or bitterness, still watching his partner. Alex didn’t have to say it outright, it was all too clear in the way he talked about him.

 

~

 

_“Seal’s a place to start, anyways, how hard can it be… interrupt a little old world voodoo. Sounds like a blast.”_

 

“Let’s hope it’s that easy,” Alex muttered, knowing that particular seal could become a problem for him if it wasn’t an easy fix. “...Actually, it’d be helpful if we were able to use that seal ourselves, since it’s not just hunters who are coming after us.”

 

_“Weird thing to wish for, but I ain’t complaining.”_

 

“It’s not so weird when I want you to be rested,” the vampire commented, watching as Dante got settled under some of the blankets on their bed. “Since you are assisting in robbing a grave tomorrow and doing so involves manual labor.”

 

_“How many cars you think we’ve boosted the last couple years combined, fifty, a hundred? Shoulda kept count for the history books.”_

 

“Definitely in the hundreds,” there was a faint smile at that small detail, a reminder of how much they’d done in such a short span of time. “Though I’m sure if I went through all my writing and tallied them up I’d have a more accurate number.”

 

_“Nothing like a little light reading,”_

 

“All the things that a teenage boy would rather not be thinking about if we’re going to be honest,” Alex replied with a shrug. “But Vincent didn’t like mediocrity or incompetence and Aristotle was a taskmaster for sure. I did take to it well, all things considered, even if it was like having teeth pulled for the first few years.”

 

_“Aristotle?”_

 

“My tutor, education was different back then, plenty of people were illiterate, and child labor was still a reality. If Vincent hadn’t taken me in when he did, I’m sure I would have been selling newspapers on a street corner or working in a factory instead of reading up on mythology.” There was a bleakness to Alex’s tone as he spoke on the matter. “Most kids my age at the time were working rather than learning. ...Aristotle, I don’t actually remember his real name come to think of it, I only called him that because of ‘Alexander the Great’ references he’d make when we met. Anyway, I believe he was a professor at the university and Vincent paid well enough, so...”

 

_“Sounds effective,”_

 

“It was pretty effective, I still bothered him when I could though,” the vampire said, fondness still present in his voice. “He did mention years later he didn’t really mind, I guess it was a welcome distraction from whatever he was working on at the time.”

 

_“So… when did you fall in love with him?”_

 

Given Alex’s conclusion that there was something special about his partner, he should have expected this. He’d never deliberately kept anything that came up in conversation from Dante before, this time though he’d been somewhat evasive about his relationship with Vincent. In a way, Alex did feel a bit smug about Dante being perceptive, but now seemed the wrong time to open that can of worms.

 

“You know, I shouldn’t be surprised you caught that,” he said, not sure how to feel about it. He supposed it made talking about it much easier since he didn’t have to work up the nerves to reveal that much.

 

“I think...I developed something like a crush on him during my teen years, nothing happened, obviously,” Alex looked over at Dante, trying to gauge his partner’s reaction. “To him, at that time, I was just some kid he adopted — actually, legally I think he technically abducted me, but it wasn’t like child protective services were going to do anything about it and I had no desire to return to live with my biological father.”

 

“I was about 18 or 19 when I realized that it wasn’t just infatuation,” Alex continued, deciding he might as well elaborate since they were already talking about it. “But I didn’t say a word of it to him until a few days before I turned 20. When I confessed how I felt I was worried he’d...I don’t know, but it was the turn of the century, so you can imagine how dangerous coming out with something like that would have been...”

 

A sigh passed Alex’s lips as he recalled the anxiety and the relief that followed.

 

“Apparently he developed similar feelings when I was around 19 or so, after he stopped having to constantly act as a parental figure basically,” there was silence for a moment, Alex was once again lost in thought. “The daggers were...they were a gift from him on my 20th birthday, we moved in together in a different house after that, the old one was too big anyway and it had been more of his work space... Anyway, we were together until the night I stupidly ran off and...you know how that ends.”

 

There was silence on Alex’s end for a long time, he wondered if Dante was tired yet or if he’d nodded off. Right then Alex felt tired and wished he could still sleep.

 

~

 

_“You know, I shouldn’t be surprised you caught that..”_

 

Dante huffed, knowing what Alex was implying but also knowing the vampire had been anything but subtle. Call it intuition. At least Alex didn’t seem upset that he’d asked, which was relieving.

 

_“I think...I developed something like a crush on him during my teen years, nothing happened, obviously…I was about 18 or 19 when I realized that it wasn’t just infatuation… you can imagine how dangerous coming out with something like that would have been...”_

 

Dante could imagine. The church where he’d spent his formative years still held fast to the antiquated beliefs of the Old Testament, not that they had managed to keep him from turning out as he had. He’d been subjected to hearing the hellfire and brimstone approach for as long as he could remember, and had somehow still avoided the brainwashing.

 

_“Apparently he developed similar feelings when I was around 19 or so, after he stopped having to constantly act as a parental figure basically… The daggers were...they were a gift from him on my 20th birthday…”_

 

It was a little hard for Dante to wrap his head around the ‘falling for your father figure’ bit, but he supposed he really couldn’t judge. It had been a different time and a different situation than the normal. He was a little surprised to hear that Vincent was the one who had given the vampire his treasured daggers, and a little conflicted. It was a long time to hold onto old emotions, not that the hunter could blame him.

 

_“Anyway, we were together until the night I stupidly ran off and...you know how that ends.”_

 

Alex was quiet for a while after that, and Dante took his time processing. While tired, his brain was holding onto consciousness in the wake of new information. None of what the vampire told him was surprising. If anything, it filled in some of the missing pieces.

 

“Why’d you run off?” Dante finally asked the last question he had, the one he wasn’t sure if he should ask. Again, call it intuition, but it was a gap in the story Alex had been stepping around pretty obviously. “Don’t hafta tell me,” he provided the out, knowing Alex wouldn’t need it if he didn’t want to talk about it, but feeling like he should offer. “If anyone gets the ‘no-fly zone’ it’s me.”

 

~

 

All things taken into account, Alex really couldn’t deny he had daddy issues, what with his actual father being less than stellar. Even then, Vincent had been more like a mentor and guardian, despite his best efforts, that familial bond never quiet formed between them. Occasionally, Alex had wondered how things might have been if it had, if he’d grown up thinking of Vincent as a father and not the way he had during his formative years. Maybe it had been Vincent putting a gun into his hands that changed it all, though Alex couldn’t be sure.

 

Once in a while, the daggers were a painful reminder, like a widower wearing a wedding band long after their spouse died. That being said, Alex had no idea what else to do with them. They were useful for one, not to mention made of silver, and while Alex was alright at shooting things, he had always favored bladed weapons. More than that, Alex always felt as if the daggers were apart of him, as if he had always been meant to carry them. The blades themselves weren’t even custom made or anything, but the feeling remained. If he remembered correctly, Vincent had gotten them off an ancient antique dealer, who might have actually just been a grave robber or ‘tomb raider’ to make it sound less scummy.

 

_“Why’d you run off?” ... “Don’t hafta tell me,” ... “If anyone gets the ‘no-fly zone’ it’s me.”_

 

There was a long moment in which Alex contemplated whether he wanted to answer the question Dante asked. It was a simple one really, but it also might raise more and Alex wasn’t sure if he wanted to answer any of those. Then again, after how tonight went, Alex wondered at the wisdom of keeping anything from Dante. It almost seemed as if now as a good a time as any to air everything out, but as it was, Dante seemed tired.

 

“Remember when I mentioned my ‘accident?’” Alex said, his tone indicating it wasn’t really as accidental as he made it out to be. “All it took was me getting sloppy once and suddenly Vincent acts like I’m a helpless child again. The worst part was knowing that the damage was so bad I essentially was helpless and he was right.” A pained look flickered over Alex’s features at the admission, even if it was just to himself.

 

“In the end I stormed out because I was losing an argument with the most stubborn man I’d known at the time.” A look was given to Dante, indicating the hunter was a contender when it came to stubbornness. “...I packed a bag and my daggers, having only intended on staying with a friend or something to cool off, but...Nikolai happened, so...”

 

“ ...There was more to that argument, actually,” the vampire said, hesitantly. “It involved Gabe’s great-grandfather, but...you really do seem tired, if you really want to know I can tell you another time.”

 

~

 

_“Remember when I mentioned my ‘accident?’ All it took was me getting sloppy once and suddenly Vincent acts like I’m a helpless child again. The worst part was knowing that the damage was so bad I essentially was helpless and he was right.”_

 

Dante only nodded, thinking it must be nice not to have to worry about that kind of thing anymore. While Alex wasn’t exactly invincible, sometimes that was easy to forget.

 

_“In the end I stormed out because I was losing an argument with the most stubborn man I’d known at the time.”_

 

Dante met Alex’s pointed gaze and raised his eyebrows, trying to look innocent. He was fairly certain it wasn’t working.

 

_“...I packed a bag and my daggers, having only intended on staying with a friend or something to cool off, but...Nikolai happened, so...There was more to that argument, actually...It involved Gabe’s great-grandfather, but...you really do seem tired, if you really want to know I can tell you another time.”_

 

“David,” Dante supplied thoughtfully, fitting in what little Alex had already told him. It helped in a way to know more. At least it kept him from filling in the unknown gaps with his imagination, but at the same time it seemed to leave him with even more questions. He glanced up at the vampire, and that nagging voice in his head warned him it might not be wise to push it too far all at once.

 

“When you’re ready, _partner_ ,” Dante dragged out the word affectionately, “no need to rush. We’ve got a lifetime, right?” Well, maybe just the one.

 

Sighing into the softest pillow he could ever remember touching, Dante’s eyelids fluttered dangerously. Alex’s presence worked like a drug, but he couldn’t shake the lingering fear that it was only temporary. He cracked a heavy eyelid suspiciously, “you gonna be here when I wake up?” He didn’t just mean ‘here’ in the room, and he figured Alex knew that.

 

The hunter sorely wished he didn't have to sleep, that he could somehow stay awake indefinitely and not be constantly missing out on what time he did have with his partner. He was sure it got annoying, Alex having to constantly find some way to occupy himself while Dante was pretty much incapacitated for hours at a time by his own basic human limitations. It was a bittersweet thought, all the time he'd missed.

 

~

 

A similarly raised eyebrow was Alex’s only response to Dante’s attempt at looking innocent. By now Alex was absolutely a hundred and ten percent certain he had a type. Stubbornness had never been more attractive than it was right then.

 

_“David,”_

 

“Yeah...” Alex trailed off, there was a fondness to his voice along with a hint of sorrow, but right then he chose not to dwell on it. “There’s...plenty to tell there as well, but we’d be here all night and day for several nights and days.”

 

 _“When you’re ready,_ partner _, no need to rush. We’ve got a lifetime, right?”_

 

Somehow, all the concerns Alex had earlier about Dante being angry at him or something evaporated entirely. It might have been how the single word ‘partner’ was dragged out the way it was. Alex couldn’t be sure, but something about the way Dante said it was reassuring, at least that their partnership mattered to the hunter.

 

“Yeah, we do,” the vampire agreed, knowing full well that he didn’t plan to outlive that one lifetime they were running on.

_“You gonna be here when I wake up?”_

 

“Do you not want me to be here?” Alex asked, half-jokingly, knowing now that apparently wasn’t the case. “I’ll still be in the room, I might want to move around a bit, since keeping your bed cool can get just a bit boring.” For a moment, Alex looked like he was considering something, but was unsure. “I might take you up on the kindle thing, because long days of sitting around can get kind of dull when I’m alone.”

 

Alex remained where he was on the bed until he finally heard Dante’s breathing and heart rate reach a point where he was sure the hunter was asleep. There wasn’t much to do really, all their things had been unpacked and organized, all their damaged clothing had been repaired the previous night and none of their weapons needed maintenance or cleaning. As far as journaling went, Alex had already written everything out that had happened so far, which left him with nothing to do.

 

Standing up, Alex lamented losing the only deck of cards he had over a week ago in the same incident in which he lost his wallet and prior fake ID. Right about now, solitaire would have been a welcome relief to the idea of sitting around by himself with nothing to do for hours. Once or twice, Alex thought about wandering out and upstairs, just to find something to do. The thing keeping him from doing just that was the fear that he might have somehow shaken Dante’s trust and didn’t want to ruin it by not being here when Dante woke up.

 

Going through all of his things once, then twice, he came up with nothing. Next, he went over and contemplated looking through the witch stuff Dante had been researching. Aside from a passing look, he didn’t want to interfere with whatever chaotic order Dante had going on with his more scientifically oriented journals. Finally, ready to go crazy without at least cheap motel cable TV to keep himself preoccupied, he remembered he had a phone.

 

Digging through his jacket pockets, Alex retrieved the flip phone and opened it. He wasn’t great at texting, which wasn’t helped by having to click certain buttons two, three, or four times to get the right letter, but he supposed he could practice. Then again, that just seemed tedious. Checking the time, Alex realized most normal humans were awake and out and about by now. Sighing, Alex decided to try and see if Gabe was awake, both for a lack of anything better to do and to possibly figure out what they were doing exactly later that night.

 

“Hey, Ally,” was the bright and overly cheery response he got after a single ring and immediately Alex groaned.

 

“Don’t tell me, Dave still called me that well after I died, right?” He asked and he could almost hear the grin on Gabe’s end.

 

“Called you that more than he called you ‘Alex,’ yeah,” was the response. “So I guess you wanted to talk about plans for tonight?”

 

“Yeah, that’d be a good place to start,” he said, sitting back on the bed, facing Dante’s sleeping form.

 

“I was thinking of actually keeping things a surprise,” Gabe said and Alex could hear the mischievousness in his voice.

 

“I should warn you,” Alex started, not sure he liked how ‘surprise’ sounded and knowing his partner could be moody, “Dante might be hung over and—”

 

“‘Not in the mood for shenanigans?’” Gabe replied, saying exactly what Alex was going to say. “It’s cool, he likes garlic bread, right?” The way Gabe said it implied it was more of a statement than a question. “I’ll text you the address where we should meet, I actually have a class to get to in a minute. Sorry I can’t talk more, I’m sure it must suck being stuck in that room with nothing to do.”

 

“It kind of does, I guess I’ll see you later tonight?” He asked, not looking forward to sitting around for a few more hours.

 

“There’s no guess about it, c’ya later, Ally,” was the cheeky response Alex got before Gabe hung up.

 

A moment later, he got a text that displayed an address in Queens, as well as a message reading ‘ _wear something nice, but bring clothes for digging_.’

 

Left alone and to his own devices again, Alex moved to rest on his side, propping his chin up under his palm while he watched Dante. He’d never actually watched his partner sleep before, but right now he had nothing better to do. For a long while, his eyes roaming over minuscule imperfections, little things that were easy to overlook and he suspected most humans did overlook. It didn’t matter that Dante had a scar or several, or that his nose was somewhat off center when he really looked. If anything, Alex found the imperfections to be perfect in a way he wasn’t sure he understood himself.

 

Eventually, knowing full well he couldn’t sleep, Alex shifted around to lay on his back and closed his eyes. He couldn’t dream, but he figured zoning out to the comforting rhythm of Dante’s breathing and heartbeat was close enough to pass the time.

 

~

 

Dante had never been a dreamer. Thanks to stress or exhaustion or insomnia or any number of things, his sleep had always been deep and blissfully blank. Darkness.

 

Tonight, or today more accurately, that wasn’t the case.

 

The first thing he was aware of was that he was definitely, beyond a shadow of a doubt, dreaming. The second thing was fire. It was all around him, like standing underneath a waterfall, but it didn’t burn. He looked down and saw that his hands were covered in it, pulsing and glowing and spewing red-hot flame.

 

He found he could see through the flames in flickering bursts, out-of-focus glimpses of light and shadow. He quickly found he could hone in on them if he concentrated, and found himself staring at Isaac. Why exactly he would dream of him, of all people, was a mystery. If anything his presence back in the hunter’s life was an annoyance more than anything, a crawling discomfort beneath his skin.

 

Isaac’s handsome face morphed and twisted as he watched, until his skin was jet-black and covered in shining scales. His irises narrowed to slits and his tongue flickered out of his mouth, forked like a snake’s. Just as quickly as it had changed, his face morphed back again. Familiar human features and smug eyes.

 

“Neat trick, isn’t it?” Isaac was grinning widely, life a grand joke to him as always. “You know all us witches have that, an animal form. Some stronger than others. Some so weak they can’t even manifest it. It’s why ancient cultures believed in spirit animals. It’s the natural form inside yourself that’s strongest.”

 

Dante shouldn’t have been surprised in the slightest that Isaac’s ‘spirit animal’ was a snake. Even as they spoke, he knew he was remembering something Isaac had already said to him. He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but he did. The conversation wasn’t fresh.

 

“What’dya think mine would be,” he heard himself asking, like it was a joke. His lips weren’t moving, so still a memory.

 

“I’ve been trying to feel you out but I can’t say… You’re a bit of a mystery, aren’t you?”

 

As sudden as that, Isaac had smoked out of existence. Dante felt himself blink, looking around at an unfamiliar location. A graveyard. The hunter was positive he’d never been here before, and felt a twinge of panic tug at him as he realized he might not be as in control of this dream as he’d thought. But his hands were still pulsing with the kind of fire that somehow didn’t burn, and the night around him was quiet.

 

He saw two figures standing in front of a pair of old headstones, and he recognized one immediately as Alex. Somewhere in the air around him music was playing, but dream-Alex and the stranger couldn’t seem to hear it. After a long moment Dante recognized the song as an old Billie Holiday tune, though he couldn’t place the title right away. The music swelled, filling the air until it was almost painfully loud.

 

Thanks to the sound of trumpets and crooning notes he couldn’t hear what Alex and the other figure--a young man--were talking about, but he could see the motion when the younger man handed Alex a piece of paper. He felt sure he was somehow watching Alex meet the old friend he’d talked about earlier, Gabe. How he could possibly be seeing this, considering he’d been on the other side of the city at the time, was perplexing. He assumed his overactive brain was just conjuring it up, filling in the blanks.

 

Before he could follow that odd train of thought, the graveyard blinked out of existence, leaving Dante reeling. Alex was still there, not far away anymore. Right in front of him. Staring at him. And not just staring, but looking at him the way Dante had always wished he would. Like he mattered. Like he wasn’t just an annoying human tag-along. The vampire seemed to be searching his face, tracing every line. It was the same way Dante looked at Alex sometimes, when he was sure he wouldn’t get caught.

 

The moment was overwhelming. Dante felt something inside himself break, knowing so definitively that he was dreaming and this was something he would never truly have.

 

Over Alex’s shoulder, a face faded into view. A face so eerily similar to the vampire’s own that Dante tried to blink, to make sense of seeing double. The strange, yet familiar features were framed by light, almost white hair, his eyes a glowing red. An anti-Alex. The vampire didn’t seem to realize there was someone standing over his shoulder, and Dante watched in horror as the face slowly twisted into an evil smile.

 

Dante felt himself screaming out a warning, no sound coming from his throat, felt the fire roar around him like a nuclear bomb. Everything was burning.

 

Dante sat bolt upright, the blanket twisted around his legs sparking an instant of panic. A beat was all it took for him to recognize the room around him, the soft texture of fabric under his hands. His partner next to him.

 

“Oh, what the _fuck_ …” Dante groaned out loud, one hand pressed against his throbbing head. “What the actual fuck…. I swear to god I’m never drinking again.”

 

He could feel his heart still racing, but one glance over at Alex, still beside him, was enough to remind him that this was real, and whatever whiskey-fueled bullshit he’d just concocted in his mind was not. He stared over at the roaring bonfire beside the bed, huffing skeptically. So that’s where he’d pulled that weird fire imagery from.

 

Still grumbling and cursing to himself, Dante shuffled into the bathroom and did his best impression of drowning himself under the ice-cold sink water. He was still having a hard time sorting reality from that bizarre dream, and he had no trouble blaming it on the stupid amount of alcohol he’d consumed. Served him right. He brushed his teeth until his gums bled, willing to do just about anything to rinse the cottony taste from his mouth, and followed it by gulping down as much water as he could stomach.

 

“God, what time is it,” he griped as he threw himself back on the mattress, “hope I didn’t sleep too long. Goddamn, whiskey gives me some weird-ass dreams.” He threw back the handful of painkillers he’d brought from the bathroom with him, swallowing them dry, and covered his aching eyes with one arm.

 

“We got a game plan for today?” He asked aloud without opening his eyes, determined to keep the hangover headache to the bare minimum for as long as he possibly could.

 

~

 

 _“Oh, what the_ fuck _…” ... “What the actual fuck…. I swear to god I’m never drinking again.”_

 

At some point when Dante had started to move in his sleep, and displayed other signs he was close to waking up, Alex had moved from his back to resting on his side. He watched Dante quietly for a moment as the hunter glanced over at him. With his head propped up in one palm, he offered a small smile and a curiously quirked brow. It was probably too bad he didn’t have a snickers bar, since apparently that was the only thing missing.

 

“I don’t think you’ve ever woken up like that before,” the vampire commented as the hunter stared over at the bonfire on the wall.

 

Rather than press the issue right in that moment, Alex sat up as Dante disappeared into the bathroom. He presumed Dante had a bad dream or nightmare and it very well could have been because of the alcohol. Despite their closing conversation last night, Alex wondered just how easy to be around a hungover Dante would be compared to his normal self. He really didn’t want a whirlwind of emotions after last night.

 

_“God, what time is it,” ... “hope I didn’t sleep too long.”_

 

“I would say it’s about 5 pm or so,” Alex said, when Dante tossed himself onto the mattress again. The vampire then reached for his phone to check. “5:13 pm, to be exact, you could have slept longer, the sun’s still going to be up for another forty to forty five minutes. ...That being said, I was getting pretty bored, so I’m glad you’re back among the living.”

 

_“Goddamn, whiskey gives me some weird-ass dreams.”_

 

“Want to talk about them?” Sitting cross legged on his side of the bed, Alex just watched as Dante took a handful of painkillers. “We do have time before we can head out, speaking of, Gabe said to wear something nice — not sure why, but I’m bringing our hobo suits for when we have to start digging.”

 

_“We got a game plan for today?”_

 

“So far it’s meet Gabe at the location he texted me, I’m sure he’ll be expecting us, so whenever you’re ready,” Alex paused, thinking. “After that we’re digging my grave up, and after that I’m not entirely sure, maybe some actual hunting after if we have time. That being said, we need bullets, which requires silver...”

 

Alex stood and went over to the drawers were he’d stored their clothing. His jeans obviously needed changing given the soil and grass stains, but then he wasn’t sure how ‘nice’ Gabe meant as far as clothing goes. He almost presumed something date-ish, but that might have just been because of a passing comment or two Dante had made about moonlit walks in a cemetery.

 

“By the way, I think I’d take a pass on cemetery walks for a date, it’s kind of morbid and there’s a perfectly good boardwalk nearby,” he said in an offhanded way as he glanced over his shoulder at his partner.

 

~

 

_“I don’t think you’ve ever woken up like that before...”_

 

Alex was right. Apparently Dante had taken blissful oblivion for granted, because this option wasn’t exactly an upgrade. It was too vivid, too hard to shake off as his own imagination.

 

_“I would say it’s about 5 pm or so...5:13 pm, to be exact, you could have slept longer, the sun’s still going to be up for another forty to forty five minutes. ...That being said, I was getting pretty bored, so I’m glad you’re back among the living.”_

 

“Definitely don’t need to sleep anymore,” Dante repressed a shutter, thinking that sounded like pretty much the worst idea imaginable at the moment. “I’m all charged up. Took a catnap in a library somewhere in this maze last night... So combined that’s like my equivalent of sleeping for a week.”

 

_“Want to talk about them?”_

 

Dante felt a flicker of uncertainty spike through him, thinking Alex was sure to figure he was losing his marbles. He shook his head. “Either whiskey’s a bitch, or I’m a few candles short of a birthday cake…. Either way it doesn’t matter. Just a weird dream.”

 

_“We do have time before we can head out, speaking of, Gabe said to wear something nice — not sure why, but I’m bringing our hobo suits for when we have to start digging.”_

 

That was enough to get Dante to peel one eye open, moving his arm enough to look at his partner skeptically. “Something nice….?” He couldn’t imagine what that was possibly about. “Don’t like that. Sounds shady.”

 

_“So far it’s meet Gabe at the location he texted me... After that we’re digging my grave up, and after that I’m not entirely sure, maybe some actual hunting after if we have time. That being said, we need bullets, which requires silver...”_

 

“I guess we can always head downstairs and dig up a source for gear,” Dante thought aloud, “I’m sure Rafter knows somebody who can hawk us some silver. Shouldn’t be an odd request in a bar full of hunters.”

 

_“By the way, I think I’d take a pass on cemetery walks for a date, it’s kind of morbid and there’s a perfectly good boardwalk nearby...”_

 

Dante smirked. “So you’re a boardwalk kinda guy,” he mused, “I can get behind it. Maybe I’ll even let you win me a stuffed animal and feed me funnel cake.” He paused for effect, “oh, I assume you were talking about me, right?”

 

He slowly pushed himself into an upright position, his pounding head punishing him for even the smallest movements. He definitely deserved that. He slowly ambled over to the dresser where Alex was picking through clothes. “Guess it’s a good thing we picked up some fresh digs,” he sorted through his own clothes, grimacing, “what does ‘nice’ mean? Like casino-Tux nice, or like not-stained kinda nice?”

 

Not having much to choose from beside the items they’d purchased last night, Dante picked out a shirt at random and bomber-style jacket. He wasn’t exactly a stylist but he figured a bunch of dark colors had to go together. He changed quickly, stuffing his trusty leather jacket and set of his old hunting clothes into his now-empty duffel.

 

~

 

_“Took a catnap in a library somewhere in this maze last night... So combined that’s like my equivalent of sleeping for a week.”_

 

“...Wait,” the vampire looked confused, then maybe just a little hurt, but in a not completely serious kind of way. “You mean to tell me there’s a library here, in this building where I can walk around without dusting, and you didn’t tell me?”

 

After the long, boring day he’d spent alone Alex desperately wished he’d known there was a library. Then again, Dante had been drunk and tired, so the vampire wasn’t too bent out of shape that his partner hadn’t mentioned it or anything. Right about now, the possibility of some absurd modern device with unlimited books sounded pretty good, price aside.

 

_“Either whiskey’s a bitch, or I’m a few candles short of a birthday cake…. Either way it doesn’t matter. Just a weird dream.”_

 

“Speaking of birthdays, yours is soon isn’t it?” Alex asked, knowing full well when his partner’s birthday was, but wanting to shift the subject even if it involved a rhetorical question. “You’re almost catching up to me,” he added, mostly to himself, not sure if he liked the idea of Dante getting old.

 

_“Something nice….?” ... “Don’t like that. Sounds shady.”_

 

“You make it sound like Gabriel’s going to somehow axe murder a vampire and a skilled hunter,” Alex said, giving Dante a skeptical look.

 

_“I guess we can always head downstairs and dig up a source for gear, I’m sure Rafter knows somebody who can hawk us some silver. Shouldn’t be an odd request in a bar full of hunters.”_

 

“We can probably do that before we leave,” Alex said with a nod. “Anything else we should do before leaving? It’s a big city and a lot of back and forth will burn up time and money.”

 

_“So you’re a boardwalk kinda guy, I can get behind it. Maybe I’ll even let you win me a stuffed animal and feed me funnel cake. Oh, I assume you were talking about me, right?”_

 

“Actually...” looking unsure, Alex trailed off for a moment. “I think a walk through the park is more my thing, the boardwalk is nice, but it doesn’t have that serene feeling you get away from the city and crowds.”

 

For a moment, Alex tried to imagine an actual date on a boardwalk. It sounded nice with how Dante described it, but from the way he said it, the vampire was absolutely sure he was only joking. It would have been nice though and right then, more than anything, Alex wished the hunter was being serious.

 

“Well, if it gets you to eat,” pausing, Alex remembered their ‘sugar garbage’ conversation, “even if it is funnel cake.”

 

_“Guess it’s a good thing we picked up some fresh digs, what does ‘nice’ mean? Like casino-Tux nice, or like not-stained kinda nice?”_

“If I were to take a guess, I’d say he just doesn’t want us showing up looking like a pair of grave robbers or homeless people,” Alex replied still figuring out what to wear.

 

“Maybe if we looked up the address we’d have an idea of where we’re going?” Alex said, grabbing his phone, then sheepishly holding it out to Dante. “I’m not entirely sure how to go about finding where this is without a physical map.”

 

After some consideration, Alex picked out the dark blue jacket made out of a thick canvas material, the same one he recalled trying on for Dante the other night. With it, he paired the deep burgundy t-shirt he’d tried on as well, deciding it’d match the sneakers he had. As for jeans, he picked a set in dark blue, though he still wasn’t sure how he was feeling about skinny jeans. With those items in hand, he set them down on his side of the bed.

 

Nice-ish clothes set out, he picked up one of the empty duffles before picking out his grave robbing outfit. He grabbed the jeans he’d worn during their latest wolf hunt, the same brown leather jacket, the dark, ragged t-shirt he’d worn that night, and his boots. Depositing it all into the duffle, he zipped it shut, then went over to where he left his ‘nice’ clothes for the evening.

 

Pulling his current jacket off, Alex set it on the bed before pulling his shirt off, adding it to the pile, then working his jeans down his legs. Undressed, he started pulling the on unstained jeans, eventually getting the skin tight material over his hips and buttoned. Pulling the shirt on over his head, he paused, then went to get his daggers, knowing regardless of Gabe’s intent, there were others that had it out for Dante and himself.

 

“Maybe while we’re here I should try to figure out how modern technology works,” he commented as he grabbed his jacket and pulled it on, double checking his holsters weren’t visible. “Since out in the wild everything is stop and go, but here we apparently have down time.”

 

~

 

_“You mean to tell me there’s a library here, in this building where I can walk around without dusting, and you didn’t tell me?”_

 

“Sorry,” Dante apologized sheepishly, “guess my drunk ass wasn’t thinking exactly right… I can probably show you the way. I wasn’t exactly firing on all cylinders while I was wandering around last night… should be able to find it again.”

 

He decided to leave out the part about meeting Isaac, partially because he had no idea how that conversation had actually gone. He knew Isaac had been fishing for some hint about the nature of Alex and Dante’s relationship, but even blackout drunk the hunter knew he wouldn’t have touched that subject with a ten-foot pole. Besides that, the hunter was a little concerned that if Isaac and Alex ever met in a dark alley only one would make it out, and his money wasn’t on the witch.

 

_“Speaking of birthdays, yours is soon isn’t it? You’re almost catching up to me...”_

 

Dante winced. “Yeah, don’t remind me. I’m getting old…” It was a little odd, thinking about his birthday. It wasn’t as if he’d ever actually celebrated it. He’d used to think it was a hunter thing, that they just didn’t observe birthdays. He’d come to learn over time that wasn’t the case. Hunters tended to celebrate every birthday like it was their last, because for all they knew it might be. It was the church that didn’t like the idea of frivolous revelry and celebration.

 

“Couple more weeks I guess,” he muttered, not wanting to dwell on the idea that he was slowly but surely catching up to his partner in age if not maturity. It was too grim a subject for the moment.

 

_“You make it sound like Gabriel’s going to somehow axe murder a vampire and a skilled hunter...”_

 

Dante raised both hands in an obvious ‘yes that’s exactly what I’m saying’ gesture. “I’m just pointing out it’s weird, and we gotta be ready for anything. That’s it.”

 

_“We can probably do that before we leave...Anything else we should do before leaving?”_

 

Dante breathed out heavily through his nose, ambling across the room to check his drunken lists and scratches from the previous night. “Wow,” he remarked, sifting through what now looked mostly like utter nonsense, “I guess I was on one last night… can’t even read half of this. But yeah, I’d say silver’s the priority. Maybe after that we find somewhere crowded to pick up some quick cash….”

 

_“Actually… I think a walk through the park is more my thing, the boardwalk is nice, but it doesn’t have that serene feeling you get away from the city and crowds.”_

 

Dante smiled to himself, listening as he continued to shuffle through nonsense, thoroughly unsurprised by that answer. It wasn’t exactly a secret that they both bordered on the unhealthy side of antisocial. The only person whose company Dante could honestly say he preferred to his own was his partner’s. And that was a whole other mess to unpack… later. He gave up on deciphering his own cryptic, alcohol-fueled hieroglyphics and stood, rubbing his aching eyes.

 

_“Well, if it gets you to eat….even if it is funnel cake.”_

 

“Calories are calories, don’t knock it.” Dante mumbled, squinting down at something completely illegible he’s scrawled in the margins of his journal. “Junk food just tastes better than carrots…. Not my fault.” He tossed a devilish smile over his shoulder at the vampire, “ _sugar garbage_.” He’d had a feeling Alex wouldn’t let the new nickname slide without a fuss.

 

_“If I were to take a guess, I’d say he just doesn’t want us showing up looking like a pair of grave robbers or homeless people.”_

 

“Ouch, okay. I get that we aren’t exactly runway models...and well… actually hobos does about sum it up.”

 

_“Maybe if we looked up the address we’d have an idea of where we’re going?”_

 

Distracted by the phone now in his hand, Dante watched Alex change out of the corner of his eye, and then immediately felt ashamed of himself and looked away. He was being a creep and he knew it. He tried to focus on looking at the map, directions to their mysterious rendezvous place.

 

“It’s a restaurant,” he remarked skeptically, double-checking the address. “Why are we meeting up there? Sketch as fuck, I’m telling you...”

 

He didn’t really believe that, feeling sure that if anything was really up he’d have some kind of sixth sense about it, or whatever Alex wanted to call it. He was just naturally suspicious of psychic strangers, call it the hunter in him, but at his core he had a feeling Gabe wasn’t a danger to them. Even if he was leading them on a wild goose chase.

 

_“Maybe while we’re here I should try to figure out how modern technology works…”_

 

“I’ll give you the crash course in the cab,” Dante grinned, pulling the strap of his duffel over his head. “Let’s get downstairs and see about making off with the chef’s finest silver, eh?”

 

~

 

_“Sorry, ... should be able to find it again.”_

 

Already, Alex was curious what kind of books would be found in a library hidden inside of a hunter bar. Given how drunk his partner had been, Alex doubted Dante had been in there doing some light reading. That being said, he saw no reason to inquire what kind of books they had. Whether the place was stocked with ancient tomes, classics, or modern young adult garbage, he couldn’t be sure, but he was hopeful about having something to do in his free time.

 

_“Yeah, don’t remind me. I’m getting old…”_

 

“You’re only 23,” the vampire said with a shrug. “That’s still pretty young, you have at least a decade or so before you start graying, not to mention, you were planning on starting on the other arm, weren’t you?” Alex asked, referencing their conversation about tattoos the other night. “Any ideas yet?”

 

_“Couple more weeks I guess.”_

 

Rather than say anything, Alex glanced over at his partner, catching now that this was probably not a good topic to dwell on. In a way, Alex could understand, being mortal and living the life of a hunter where many died young sounded bleak. It probably didn’t help that Dante was partnered up with someone who didn’t age. All of that being said, Alex would have given many things to be human again, though here and now seemed the wrong time and place for that conversation.

 

_“I’m just pointing out it’s weird, and we gotta be ready for anything. That’s it.”_

 

“In that case, I’ll be prepared to encounter axe murderers,” the vampire deadpanned, the entire idea absurd to him, but he could understand Dante’s paranoia after everything else that had happened. “If I were an axe murderer I don’t think I’d be too concerned about what my victims chose to wear, to be quite honest.”

 

For a moment, Alex thought about his human life, specifically his profession. He certainly had never been too concerned with how his targets had chosen to dress back then. Then again, a serial killer might be more picky about that sort of thing than a man being paid to end someone’s life.

 

_“Wow. I guess I was on one last night… can’t even read half of this. But yeah, I’d say silver’s the priority. Maybe after that we find somewhere crowded to pick up some quick cash….”_

 

“Does this mean you’re some kind of mad genius when drunk and just mad when you’re sober?” Alex quipped with a flicker of a smile. “It’s ironic that the best place to get cash quick is in crowds, but neither of us are all that extroverted.”

 

_“Calories are calories, don’t knock it.”_

Alex sighed as Dante squinted at his drunken scrawl from the previous night. He wanted nothing more than to explain not all calories are equal in substance and that while Dante was fed he could very easily be malnourished. Shaking his head, Alex reminded himself it was only a matter of time before Dante ended up with scurvy, diabetes, or something from his poor eating habits.

 

 _“Junk food just tastes better than carrots…. Not my fault,_ sugar garbage _.”_

 

The devilish smile was what Alex saw before he heard the dreaded nickname and even then he hadn’t been prepared. The look on Alex’s face was like that of a cat who’d had water splashed in their face.

 

“ _Don’t call me that_ ,” he grumbled, annoyance in his voice at the name, though it lacked any real venom. At the end of the day, he hated the nickname, but wasn’t about to rob Dante of any fleeting happiness, even if it was at his expense, which it very much was.

 

_“Ouch, okay. I get that we aren’t exactly runway models...and well… actually hobos does about sum it up.”_

 

“If we’re going to be completely honest, we are technically homeless,” Alex mused aloud. “And we are robbing a grave, so calling us homeless grave robbers isn’t an inaccurate statement in the slightest,” a pause. “I still don’t buy that I can rob my own grave.”

 

_“It’s a restaurant. Why are we meeting up there? Sketch as fuck, I’m telling you...”_

 

“Well, I would presume for you to eat,” Alex said, looking at Dante like his partner had lost his mind from all the paranoia. “Unless people go to restaurants for other things these days? I also doubt it’d be an ideal location to murder us, or whatever it is you think he’s going to do.”

 

Given the amount of sketchiness they’d had to deal with over the years, the restaurant Gabe had directed them to was nice. Not tuxedo and reservations months out nice, but it seemed like walking in wearing ripped or stained clothing would raise a few eyebrows.

 

_“I’ll give you the crash course in the cab. Let’s get downstairs and see about making off with the chef’s finest silver, eh?”_

 

“Oh, one moment,” Alex said suddenly, realizing they’d be mingling with ordinary humans when they met with Gabe. “Contacts, blending in and all that,” he said, grabbing his satchel and disappearing into the bathroom for a few minutes.

 

Coming out, eyes rendered a more indigo shade, he stopped, then looked around, as if he were forgetting something. It didn’t take long for Alex to realize Dante’s crucifix was missing from around the hunter’s neck and then he remembered the previous night’s events. It was silver, and valuable, so sentiment aside, Alex thought it was pretty unwise to just toss it away. Over the years, Alex had hated the sight of the thing on Dante, but now the image seemed off without it. Even when the hunter had it tucked away, Alex had always been able to see an outline on his partner’s chest, or the cord around his neck where his collar didn’t cover.

 

“Do you mind if I...?” Alex asked, going over to where the bit of silver had fallen last night and picking it up, glad his gloves kept him from burning himself. “It’s still silver and it can always be melted down into something else.”

 

Holding the crucifix out to Dante, Alex wondered if the hunter would take it or not. In the end he supposed it didn’t matter one way or another, but regardless, if Dante didn’t want it, Alex was more than happy to add it to their silver stash.

 

~

 

_“You’re only 23... That’s still pretty young, you have at least a decade or so before you start graying, not to mention, you were planning on starting on the other arm, weren’t you? Any ideas yet?”_

 

“If I start going gray when I’m 33, go ahead and put one right here--” Dante tapped the center of his forehead pointedly, “no freaking way. I’ll steal some of your hair dye or something.”

 

At the mention of starting a second sleeve, Dante pursed his lips and looked down at his left arm, even covered by the jacket sleeve. “Well, I guess we might end up with some free time… and weirdly enough I know there just happens to be a pretty decent tattoo artist staying here right now,” he paused to think for a moment, then shrugged, going for a joke as his usual fallback. “What about a giant snickers bar? It would go so well with the skulls and latin, wouldn’t it?”

 

_“If I were an axe murderer I don’t think I’d be too concerned about what my victims chose to wear, to be quite honest.”_

 

“It’s to throw off the scent,” Dante quipped back, keeping up the joke, “catch us off guard. Nobody expects to get axe murdered in their Sunday best. It’s how they always getcha.”

 

_“Does this mean you’re some kind of mad genius when drunk and just mad when you’re sober?”_

 

“That sounds about right,” Dante was still flummoxed by his own methods, especially remembering how much clarity and certainty he’d felt buried in his laptop last night. Like he’d unlocked the secrets of the universe and needed to get it all written down before it slipped away. Only now, sober, it had definitely slipped away, and drunk-Dante hadn’t been exactly legible. He only hoped he’d be able to decipher it when he had some time to sit down.

 

_“Don’t call me that...”_

 

Dante raised his eyebrows in challenge, deliberately pulling out his phone. He hit a few quick keys before flashing it at the vampire, showing him his own contact. “But it’s literally your name now,” he dead-panned, prouder of his own joke than he probably should be. “Sorry, it’s set in stone. Now I will literally be calling you that.” He could only imagine the kind of payback he was going to get for this when the vampire finally got tech-savvy and learned how to do the same thing with his own phone, but for the moment it was worth it.

 

“If we’re going to be completely honest, we are technically homeless... And we are robbing a grave, so calling us homeless grave robbers isn’t an inaccurate statement in the slightest..."

 

“The open road is our home,” Dante flourished dramatically, “we’re like the Bonnie and Clyde of the hunting world. Grave robbers with class.”

 

_“Well, I would presume for you to eat… Unless people go to restaurants for other things these days? I also doubt it’d be an ideal location to murder us, or whatever it is you think he’s going to do.”_

 

“Oh, so now this random stranger is on the ‘cram Dante full of vegetables like a stuffed pig’ party bus? Are you guys staging an intervention or what?” He took a beat to think about it, then pointed his finger at Alex like he’d just had a brilliant idea, “or he’s going to poison us. In our new duds. That’s like, double evil.”

 

He waited for Alex to change his contacts, secretly thinking that violet eyes might stand out more than red, but he liked the way they looked on the vampire so he had never said anything about it. If withholding a little bit of information was selfish of him, well… he couldn't find it in himself to feel all that bad about it.

 

_“Do you mind if I...? It’s still silver and it can always be melted down into something else.”_

 

Dante hesitated, warring with himself. He’d always been so adamant that he wasn’t sentimental. And yet, looking down at the crucifix in his partner’s hand, something unfamiliar was tugging at his chest, something too much like emotion and too far from being one he could identify. It felt like there was a lot of baggage tied up in that piece of silver, none of it good. But there were also a lot of memories.

 

Making a split decision to avoid standing there staring stupidly forever, the hunter reached out and took the silver cross, hanging it around his neck before he could second-guess himself. If he was being honest he felt naked without it, and the very idea of seeing it melted down made his pulse race with anxiety.

 

“Might have been a little dramatic last night,” he grumbled by way of poor explanation, hoping they could move on from that topic. “Anyways I can always melt it in a pinch,” he had no intention of doing that, but it sounded good.

 

Dante tucked the nearly-empty bottle of ibuprofen into his duffel bag for good measure, then opened the door, waiting for his partner to join him.

 

~

 

_“If I start going gray when I’m 33, go ahead and put one right here--” ... “no freaking way. I’ll steal some of your hair dye or something.”_

 

“Considering most of what we have is already stolen...” Alex trailed off, shaking his head. “My roots aren’t showing, are they?”

 

The vampire asked knowing full well they likely weren’t showing. While still a captive of his own coven, Alex had discovered his hair never grew. In a fit of frustration, around the time seeing a perpetually youthful face in the mirror no matter how old he got, he attempted to shear it all off. However, like all damage, the hair only grew back within a few hours, though back in its original color. In the span of time Alex had known Dante, he’d only needed to upkeep his current color a few times, first when the color had simply started to fade and then another after an unfortunate accident with holy water.

_“Well, I guess we might end up with some free time… What about a giant snickers bar? It would go so well with the skulls and latin, wouldn’t it?”_

“Unfortunate tattoo choices aside,” a snickers bar immortalized on his partner's arm for instance, “you are lucky to be able to make those choices.”

 

It might have come up before, Alex couldn’t recall, but as far as he knew tattoos on vampires didn’t last. Like any wound, they healed and the ink just didn’t seem to take for more than a day. While the vampire wasn’t personally a fan of the idea of inking himself up, he envied the idea of being able to change and have those changed reflected in his physical form.

 

“Now that I think of it, I’m pretty fortunate Nikolai didn’t turn me when I was younger,” Alex mused, “I’ve always had a theory that vampire get...well, kind of emotionally stunted at the age they were turned at, if that makes sense? It’s like, no matter how old we get or how much we learn, we never really get to experience growing up beyond the age we died at.”

 

_“It’s to throw off the scent,” “catch us off guard. Nobody expects to get axe murdered in their sunday best. It’s how they always getcha.”_

 

“You must be joking,” was the exasperated response, knowing full well no one could be this paranoid and Dante had to have been playing it up for laughs.

 

_“That sounds about right,”_

 

“You’re also apparently the dumbest smart person I know,” the vampire murmured under his breath.

 

_“But it’s literally your name now. Sorry, it’s set in stone. Now I will literally be calling you that.”_

 

Eyes widened at the sight of what was clearly Alex’s number and what was clearly _not his name_ flashing across the screen at him. Alex then grimaced, a fully fanged grimace, because at this point no amount of calm could keep an impassive mask up. After a moment, he huffed, willing himself not to stalk over and take the phone and try to figure out how to alter a contact name.

 

“Kids these days,” he sighed, shaking his head, cringing inwardly even now over the horrid nickname.

 

_“The open road is our home, we’re like the Bonnie and Clyde of the hunting world. Grave robbers with class.”_

 

“You know Bonnie and Clyde died in a horrific shootout with the police, right?” The vampire asked in a dry tone.

 

_“Oh, so now this random stranger is on the ‘cram Dante full of vegetables like a stuffed pig’ party bus? ... In our new duds. That’s like, double evil.”_

 

“You know sitting down and eating is a normal thing humans do, right?” Alex asked, actually curious if Dante thought this was all a conspiracy or if the church and life as a hunter had warped his sense of normal this badly. “As in, it doesn’t always have to be snickers bars and expired gas station food. I’m pretty sure what Gabe is doing is what most humans would call ‘a nice gesture’ before he has us digging all night, in which case you’ll need the calories.”

 

Once upon a time, Alex had tried out a few different colors. Brown had just made his eyes look black and with a blank resting face it hadn’t gone so well. Green had made him look strung out on drugs with red peaking just through the green, so that was a no go. Any of the lighter colors looked unnatural, so he’d never bothered. The dark blue was one of the few that provided coverage and while still an unusual color, didn’t have the same immediate effect as red eyes. Having strangers in a crowded restaurant ooing and awing was much better than getting strange glances from peripherals.

_“Might have been a little dramatic last night,”_

“Aren’t you always?” Alex offered with a small smile, somehow glad Dante chose to take the crucifix back.

 

_“Anyways I can always melt it in a pinch,”_

 

“...It looks good on you,” was the only reply Alex could muster. “Religious significance, history, and the fact that it’ll burn me if I touch it, it’s not all that bad.”

 

With the door opened, Alex grabbed all the things he needed and followed his partner out. Outside the door, shutting it, Alex made a point of making sure it was locked. After he’d come back to find it unlocked the other night, he wanted to be sure, though he was doubtful anyone intending on stealing would go undetected.

 

“Oh, I should probably get something to drink,” Alex murmured, realizing he didn’t need to be running around weakened when so much was closing in on them. “How much do you think Rafter would normally charge? I hate feeling like I’m freeloading and I’m sure blood doesn’t come cheap.”

 

~

 

_“My roots aren’t showing, are they?”_

 

Dante made a show of squinting at the vampire’s hair, then shrugging. “Eh they're not too bad,” he lied shamelessly. “Better than the bottle blonde look. You know Sadie moonlights as a hairdresser, maybe she can hook you up with some sweet highlights. NSYNC style.”

 

_“Unfortunate tattoo choices aside… you are lucky to be able to make those choices.”_

 

“Yes, extremely lucky,” Dante tried not to roll his eyes too hard, “I also get to spend four hours a night comatose and I still can’t bench press a car, but the ability to ink up makes up for all the human bullshit.” He knew there were downsides to being a vampire too, and a lot of them, but as Alex knew he’d never be done bitching about his human limitations. He’d give his left arm to never have to sleep again.

 

_“Now that I think of it, I’m pretty fortunate Nikolai didn’t turn me when I was younger… It’s like, no matter how old we get or how much we learn, we never really get to experience growing up beyond the age we died at.”_

 

“Like _Interview with a Vampire_ , right? Don’t turn kids cause they’re little psychopaths already?” Dante grimaced at the thought of a child vampire, trying to shake that thought away.

 

_“You must be joking...”_

 

Plastering on his best poker face, and he thought it was a pretty damn good one, Dante stared blankly at the vampire and shook his head. “Deathly serious.”

 

_“You’re also apparently the dumbest smart person I know,”_

“Aww, shucks. You say the sweetest things,” Dante replied loudly, knowing he was supposed to pretend he hadn’t heard that. He couldn't exactly disagree with Alex.

 

Dante laughed quietly to himself at Alex’s reaction, and couldn’t resist a full-blown chuckle when the vampire’s fangs came out. He loved getting any reaction out of his partner, but this one was especially satisfying. He batted his eyelashes with an exaggerated innocent expression, thinking of all the ways he could use the nickname to embarrass Alex later.

 

_“It doesn’t always have to be snickers bars and expired gas station food. I’m pretty sure what Gabe is doing is what most humans would call ‘a nice gesture’ before he has us digging all night, in which case you’ll need the calories.”_

 

Dante ‘harrumphed’ cynically, but couldn’t deny some hot quality food might be nice. And if his stomach growled a little bit at the thought, he couldn’t exactly help that. “Yeah, well… normal humans do a lot of weird shit.”

 

_“...It looks good on you… Religious significance, history, and the fact that it’ll burn me if I touch it, it’s not all that bad.”_

 

Dante grunted, wanting to thank his partner for the encouragement but still struggling with his own feelings about the damn thing. While he might have overreacted knowing that it was the source of their recent troubles, at least partially, he couldn’t entirely say why he was still holding onto it after all this time. It was a symbol of hatred and oppression and everything he’d worked so hard to escape. And yet, it was a part of him. The irony was cruel.

 

“You saying I’ll burn you if you touch me,” Dante was able to choke out a joke at least, and some things never changed. “Kinky.”

 

_“Oh, I should probably get something to drink… How much do you think Rafter would normally charge? I hate feeling like I’m freeloading and I’m sure blood doesn’t come cheap.”_

 

“Yes, please try to pay the man,” Dante shot back as they walked, “I'll make some popcorn while I watch you break his giant heart into a million tiny offended pieces. Honestly though. I know he’s not gonna take a dime from us. He’s still dealing with that whole guilty martyr thing, god knows why.” He thought about it for a moment, then added “maybe he’ll let us do something to help him out. Work out a trade of some kind.” What that could possibly be, he had no idea, but he had the same uneasiness about taking anything for free that Alex did. He’d just hoped he’d have some time to figure out a way to repay the big Irishman that didn’t involve irreparably hurting his feelings.

 

When they made it downstairs, the bar was quieter than it had been the previous night, but the night was still young. Isaac was sitting at a circular table playing Three Card Monte with a group of angry-looking gamblers, and he winked at Dante when he caught the hunter’s eye. Thankfully that was all he did. Dante was still infinitely curious what they had talked about while he was drunk, but he figured he’d have time to dissect that later.

 

At the bar, Sadie was laughing and pouring flaming shots for several patrons, and Rafter was singing loudly with a group of drunks.The speakers were off and the Jukebox was playing an old Steve Miller Band tune. Dante found his lips turning into a fond smile at the sight, comforting, warm, and safe. It was a nice change of pace.

 

Dante shrugged at his partner, "well, wanna start with getting you some breakfast?"

 

~

 

_“Better than the bottle blonde look. You know Sadie moonlights as a hairdresser, maybe she can hook you up with some sweet highlights. NSYNC style.”_

 

“I think I’d rather not,” Alex said after a moment, not wanting to ask what an ‘NSYNC’ was, lest he sound like an old man again. “I stood out like a sore thumb as a kid,” he recalled, running a hand through artificially dark locks. “Vin’s entire extended family and most of his associates all had dark hair and a tan, so I’m sure you can imagine.”

 

_“Yes, extremely lucky, I also get to spend four hours a night comatose and I still can’t bench press a car, but the ability to ink up makes up for all the human bullshit.”_

 

“I do miss dreaming, wanna trade?” The vampire asked dryly. “It’s probably a good thing vampires can’t get tattoos, come to think of it, we’d run out of space eventually and I hear it can be addictive.”

 

 _“Like_ Interview with a Vampire _, right? Don’t turn kids cause they’re little psychopaths already?”_

 

“I’ve heard of the book...or is it a movie? I can’t keep these things straight anymore,” the vampire looked pensive, then shook his head. “I haven’t read it though, would I be disappointed if I did?”

 

To Alex’s knowledge, he’d never met or heard of a child being turned. He presumed the main issue would be risk of exposure, rather than any moral limitations, as an adult would have more sense not to do anything stupid or reckless.

 

“I don’t think it’s because they’re little psychopaths so much as children and teenagers are incredibly impulsive and maybe even a little hot-headed,” Alex gave Dante a pointed look. “And therefore could be a risk to us all. ...It wasn’t too unusual, what Nikolai did after I was turned, though a decade was a long time to keep a fledgling locked up...they do want to be sure new vampires are mellowed out before they are let loose on the world.”

 

_“Deathly serious.”_

 

“How dead are we talking, unliving, undead, dead, or dead dead?” The vampire bantered back.

 

Some way, somehow, Alex knew he hadn’t heard the last of that dreaded nickname. ‘ _Sugar Garbage_ ,’ He thought bitterly. He wondered to himself just how and when it might spring up again, knowing his partner, this could potentially be used to embarrass him in public later. Alex desperately hoped Dante didn’t call him that in front of other hunters, though at this point it might just break the ice. Thankfully, Dante didn’t know his middle name, which was a small mercy all things considered.

 

_“Yeah, well… normal humans do a lot of weird shit.”_

 

“Normal human do a lot of normal things, like meet up for dinner and other meals,” Alex corrected, feeling a grin wanting to form despite being reminded of a terrible nickname a moment ago. “It’s hunters who do ‘a lot of weird shit’ as you put it.”

 

_“You saying I’ll burn you if you touch me. Kinky.”_

 

“Not much is kinky when you have experience breaking out of handcuffs blindfolded,” Alex retorted without a beat. “I’ve never been one for pain though, I found that out the hard way after...” Trailing off, Alex realized he didn’t feel like talking about the birds and the bees when it came to vampires and humans they fed from. “Never mind, we’ve got things to do, so I don’t know why we’re talking about you burning me.”

 

_“Yes, please try to pay the man. Work out a trade of some kind.”_

 

“I’m more than willing to trade things for blood if it means not feeling like we’re overstaying our welcome,” Alex thought briefly, wondering just how to go about repaying Rafter and Sadie for any assistance they were getting. “Not to mention all the questions we’re going to have for Sadie about this seal and other magical business. I’d hate to overstep and all without offering anything in return.”

 

Once in the bar, Alex was relieved to find the place was much quieter compared to the previous night. Granted, it was still early, so perhaps they simply beat the evening rush of hunters and whatever else breezed into the bar. He was less pleased to notice Dante’s witch acquaintance...friend...person still around, but then it wasn’t as if he were doing anything wrong by being there. Sighing inwardly, Alex let his mask slide into place, determined to be unphased by anything out to leave him flustered or ruffled.

 

_"Well, wanna start with getting you some breakfast?"_

 

As much as Alex liked to hide behind an impassive facade, it was much harder at the sight of his partner smiling. Over the years the hunter had chipped away and over the intense last few days, it was becoming harder and harder to hide. Perhaps it had been the other night and being hit with so many emotions all at once, but it had occurred to him he felt safe with Dante to open up more. That and even trusted the hunter more than himself.

 

“Sure, I’ll get the usual,” the vampire replied, offering a fond, faint smile as they approached the bar.

 

~

 

_“It’s probably a good thing vampires can’t get tattoos, come to think of it, we’d run out of space eventually and I hear it can be addictive.”_

 

Dante considered that for a moment, wondering if the so-called ink-addiction really played any part in the tattoos taken on by hunters. “I mean, I guess living to get a new tat can be addicting? I wouldn’t know. This whole excited-to-live shit is pretty new to me. Last four years or so, give or take.” Though delivered like a joke, it was closer to the truth than Alex could possibly know.

 

_“I’ve heard of the book...or is it a movie? II haven’t read it though, would I be disappointed if I did?”_

 

“Terribly,” Dante replied with certainty, “and it's both. Book and movie. But hey, eventually you’re gonna run out of stuff to read. Who knows, you might like all that cringe-worthy drama and over-sexualization.”

 

_“I don’t think it’s because they’re little psychopaths so much as children and teenagers are incredibly impulsive and maybe even a little hot-headed...”_

 

Dante pointedly ignored that comment, even if he could feel the weighted look the vampire gave him. It wasn’t like he was off-base.

 

_“Not much is kinky when you have experience breaking out of handcuffs blindfolded…”_

 

Dante raised his eyebrows at the comment, but figured that was a slippery slope to go down at the moment. While he was fairly curious what exactly did and did not rate as ‘kinky’ in the vampire’s book, he’d made a point not to broach the subject. It hit a little too close to home when he was harboring such confusing feelings of his own for the other man.

 

_“I’m more than willing to trade things for blood if it means not feeling like we’re overstaying our welcome... I’d hate to overstep and all without out offering anything in return.”_

 

Dante hummed his agreement, wondering what they could possibly offer. Rafter seemed to be doing pretty well for himself, but maybe they could pick up some jobs to help him out. At the very least a case of McGargle’s Lager or some new masters for the jukebox.

 

_“Sure, I’ll get the usual…”_

 

Tonight they had more than a few empty barstools to choose from, and Dante hopped onto the closest, spinning on the seat experimentally. Sadie breezed over to them, tucking a handful of cash into an empty milk jug by the register. Apparently her shot tricks were pretty lucrative.

 

“Well hello sweet darlings,” she all but purred at them, flashing a knowing smile, “sleep well?” Before they could answer she pointed a long, manicured fingernail at Dante, then at Alex, “Ginger ale and prickly pear, and house special?”

 

Dante raised an eyebrow as she breezed over to the tap, turning to his partner and mouthing ‘prickly pear?’ incredulously. Far be it from him to question the method of ancient magicians, but it sounded disgusting.

 

“Yeah, good morning to you too,” Dante deadpanned as a copper mug appeared on front of him, and a tall glass one with a sanguine liquid in front of Alex. Although it was far from morning, hunter hours weren’t exactly traditional. He sniffed the mug experimentally, dreading trying it.

 

 _“Why?”_ He asked simply, feeling like a little kid being told to eat his vegetables. Only he was coming up on 24 and Alex still nagged him about that, so maybe it was more of a lifelong curse.

 

“It’ll help with your hangover,” Sadie smiled at him, propping a hand on her hip smugly. “When you’re young and new to the craft, opening your third eye can be quite draining.”

 

“Yeah I thought you were joking about all that third eye business,” defeated, Dante took an experimental sip of the bubbly liquid. Which to be fair, wasn’t all that terrible. “I just thought you were trying to give me some good old-fashioned alcohol poisoning.”

 

Ignoring him, which she seemed to do a lot, Sadie turned the full weight of her attention on Alex. “So, what’s on the agenda for the two of you tonight? Something wicked, I hope,“ she added that last comment with a blinding white smile.

 

~

 

_"This whole excited-to-live shit is pretty new to me. Last four years or so, give or take.”_

 

“What would you have done without me?” Alex replied, an air of humor to his tone, though he did wonder what Dante would have become of his partner if they hadn’t met.

 

_“Terribly, and it's both. Book and movie. But hey, eventually you’re gonna run out of stuff to read. Who knows, you might like all that cringe-worthy drama and over-sexualization.”_

 

“I have a feeling I’ll have plenty to read before I resort to vampire fiction,” which Alex was planning on avoiding like the plague. “That being said, I’m skeptical of whether or not I’ll like modern fiction at all.”

 

Over the decades, Alex had tried when he could to snag a book or two, or as many as he could carry and hope to read. Running for decades had been exhausting, even for an immortal, and the only thing Alex missed from the coven house was the extensive library.

 

The only time he’d had plenty to read, when he wasn’t under the watchful eyes of his coven, was when he’d pilfered a beaten up paperback from some soldier’s possessions during the night. World War II had been a mixed bag of book options, on the western front he’d occasionally be lucky to find something in English, unlucky to find something in German, and reasonably lucky to find something in Russian on the eastern front. Vietnam he’d generally been lucky in shadowing his own countrymen and finding something worth thumbing through.

 

“I think you’d be surprised how behind I am on literature,” he tried not to sound too put off, telling himself nothing would ever be as good as the classics he grew up on anyway. “Or I suppose what counts as literature over the last few decades.”

 

~

 

Alex took the seat beside his partner, once again glad he didn’t have to deal with the claustrophobic feeling brought on by a crowded bar. Even better, the less people present meant the less his senses were overloaded, so he had no issue hearing Dante’s vitals and his scent was easy to pick up. In a way, Alex supposed it was creepy, but then it wasn’t as if he’d chosen those things to be his anchor, they just were.

 

_“Well hello sweet darlings, sleep well?”... “Ginger ale and prickly pear, and house special?”_

 

When Dante indicated his incredulous feels regarding what was going to be in his drink, he gave Dante a ‘I don’t care if it it sounds disgusting, drink it’ look.

 

_“Yeah, good morning to you too,”_

 

“I actually think it’s more of a ‘good evening,” Alex said, looking from Dante then to Sadie. “I can’t say I slept at all,” the vampire said with a small shrug. “I would have kept Dante in bed longer, but...you know how he is, I’m sure.”

 

If there was an innuendo in there, Alex didn’t indicate anything beyond dismay that his partner didn’t sleep as much as other humans. Casually, he took a small sip of the blood in the glass in front of him, then a much longer one. It was still strange to be able to drink it from a glass rather than the vein of a dead animal or his partner’s arm.

 

_“Why?”_

 

Rather than dish out any more pointed looks, Alex just sighed and shook his head, a soft laugh on his lips at his partner’s distaste for doing anything good for himself. If Dante hadn’t been so endearing, it might have driven the vampire a little crazy ages ago. His partner didn’t sleep enough, didn’t eat right, ran himself ragged, and to top it all off wouldn’t even do something simple to make his hangover more tolerable.

_“It’ll help with your hangover. When you’re young and new to the craft, opening your third eye can be quite draining.”_

 

_“Yeah I thought you were joking about all that third eye business...”_

 

“So I’m not the only one who thinks Mr. Potter here,” the vampire commented, smugness thick in his voice, while hoping he didn’t fuck up the reference, “might actually be a wizard?”

 

It occurred to Alex then, in the least, he might as well pick up one of the more widely read book series of this era. If for no other reason than to sound like he knew what he was talking about. That and he had plenty of time to burn while Dante was sleeping.

 

_“So, what’s on the agenda for the two of you tonight? Something wicked, I hope.”_

 

“Well,” Alex started, looking at his partner, then back to Sadie. “We’re going to meet the descendant of a friend of mine, his name’s Gabe, seems like a nice kid, but someone,” yet another pointed look was directed to Dante, “thinks he’s an axe murderer, or something.”

 

At this point, Alex wasn’t sure what else to say on the matter of Gabe. As far as Alex understood, Gabe had the ability to predict things before they happened and had a stronger than average intuition. That being said, despite Gabe saying he wasn’t a witch, the vampire himself wasn’t entirely sure where Gabe’s power came from.

 

“He’s probably not an axe murderer,” Alex said with certainty, “but he’s definitely in on our plot to get Dante to eat more than a snickers bar once in a blue moon. ...After that I guess we’re going to visit my grave and dig it up, because I guess there might be something worth finding in it?”

 

Alex very much stood by the notion that he could not rob his own grave.

 

~

 

_“What would you have done without me?”_

 

“Died, slowly and painfully, I’m sure,” Dante said without hesitation. “You know I wasn’t exactly thinking long term. In case my dumb ass running half-cocked into a coven full of vampires wasn’t a clue.” He shook his head, smiling at the thought of how stupid and reckless he’d been back then.

 

The hunter wondered if Alex could see how drastically he’d changed over the space of the years, years that had seemed like lifetimes to Dante but were likely only a handful of short moments to the vampire. He wondered if Alex had any idea that he was the driving force behind that. Having someone in his life who for the first time, he so desperately didn’t want to let down, who he wanted to be strong enough to help and not hinder, to impress and not disappoint.

 

It was new and terrifying and wildly out of his comfort zone, if he’d ever had one. Something besides the anger and rage that had always burned in him, his only fuel. After all, having something to love was a hell of a lot different than having everything to hate. There was life before Alex, and life after. The dividing line between his past and present. He felt fear now, for Alex’s life, for his own… he felt all the tender, confusing, deep emotions he’d always been so convinced he was incapable of. But that hadn’t been true at all. He’d just been waiting.

 

Eyes distant as his mind processed all those confusing thoughts, he cast a quick glance at his partner, thinking how crazy Alex would think he was if he only knew. Well. More crazy than he already thought Dante was.

 

~

 

_“I can’t say I slept at all… I would have kept Dante in bed longer, but...you know how he is, I’m sure.”_

 

Dante’s eyes fluttered shut and he shaded his face with his free hand to avoid seeing the look on Sadie’s face at that comment. He could imagine it well enough, and it took everything in him not to cringe. How Alex could say shit like that with a straight face was beyond him, because he couldn’t even hear it without his mind going to impossibly dirty places.

 

_“So I’m not the only one who thinks Mr. Potter here might actually be a wizard?”_

 

“ _Mr. Potter_ ,” Dante repeated under his breath incredulously, feeling incredibly ganged up on, “Jesus H...”

 

Sadie laughed, incredibly pleased with herself as usual, and Dante made a point not to look at her as he hunched over his drink. The last thing he needed was Alex getting stuck on this whole magic-hunter business.

 

“A wizard, certainly not,” Sadie singsonged, and he could feel her looking at him like he was some kind of Christmas present waiting to be unwrapped, “no cheap tricks and smokescreens for this one. Something else… can’t quite put my finger on it. But powerful.”

 

Dante didn’t possess the self-control to avoid rolling his eyes, taking a long swig from the copper mug in an attempt to choke the stuff down as quickly as possible and be done with it. “Okay, then, where’s all this power at? What, do I snap my fingers three times and disappear?” He demonstrated sarcastically, turning to level a dirty look at Alex. “You two can stop with all your conspiracy theories already, I’m human, through and through.”

 

_“Well...We’re going to meet the descendant of a friend of mine, his name’s Gabe, seems like a nice kid, but someone thinks he’s an axe murderer, or something.”_

 

“Can’t be too careful…” Dante raised his eyebrows, finishing off his drink. Thankfully the bitter notes were chased by some kind of sweet, impossible to define flavor, leaving him dehydrated as usual but none the worse for wear.

 

_“He’s probably not an axe murderer...but he’s definitely in on our plot to get Dante to eat more than a snickers bar once in a blue moon. ...After that I guess we’re going to visit my grave and dig it up, because I guess there might be something worth finding in it?”_

 

Sadie leaned across the bar, watching them over the rim of her glass, all calm, knowing, mischievous energy in stark contrast to Rafter’s bubbling and clumsy good-nature. They were a strange but well-matched yin and yang, Dante thought.

 

“I do love a good graveyard adventure,” Sadie hummed thoughtfully, “so many restless spirits to talk to. So much knowledge. Well, if you’re in the grave-robbing business boys, I might have a few plots for you to dig up--” she winked and tipped her glass, “--for science. Anyways we can get to that later. Have you eaten? Rafter’s been in the kitchen all day, made something called haggis and coddle, I think? Anyways, he’s very proud of it.”

 

“Ah, what a bummer, afraid we can’t indulge,” Dante smiled with obviously false regret, “we actually have a date.” He elbowed his partner and batted his eyelashes, “all you can eat buffet I’m sure. But ah, before we headed off, we were hoping Rafter might have a lead or two on where we could restock. Running kinda low in the gear department. Silver, specifically.”

 

Sadie looked at the two of them like they were children, asking questions about why the sky was blue. “Well, this is a hunter’s guild,” to her credit she managed not to sound too terribly condescending, “it’s kind of our specialty.”

 

~

 

_“Died, slowly and painfully, I’m sure,” ...“You know I wasn’t exactly thinking long term. In case my dumb ass running half-cocked into a coven full of vampires wasn’t a clue.”_

 

“I probably would have gone the same, to be honest, though maybe not slowly,” Alex murmured, mostly to himself this time.

 

In the beginning, Alex had felt indebted to Dante for his rescue, though that was never really the full extent of it. Alex had been close to death and while he’d accepted it, he couldn’t help but regret not having more time. Dante’s arrival had been the answer to a prayer Alex hadn’t made and in a way it gave him a sense of purpose. Killing other vampires and running from his coven for decades had been monotonous, a tedious task he felt he had to carry out as a form of penance. Dante’s entry into his unlife had sparked something different and for the first time in almost ninety years, he had someone else to care about.

 

Where Dante had gone from a responsibility to what they were now, Alex couldn’t say. He also couldn’t exactly pinpoint the exact moment he realized he liked Dante, cared about him as more than just a partner or friend. It had happened both quickly and gradually all at once to him, it was contradictory and confusing all at once. It had been as if he were meeting someone he’d known since forever and had quickly fallen into a pattern with, despite having only known Dante for a few short years.

 

“I’m glad you weren’t thinking long term,” the vampire added, once again just musing aloud to himself, knowing if Dante had been careful and cautious, he never would have interrupted the execution like he had.

 

~

 

Alex contentedly drank his glass of blood down, unaware of the effect his choice of words about sleep and beds might have affected Dante. Of course, as much as he’d wished it were different, the entire thing had been utterly platonic. Platonic and painfully boring with him laying around and waiting for his partner to wake up, all while wanting Dante to sleep more for his own sake, even if it drove Alex a little crazy.

 

_“Mr. Potter. Jesus H...”_

 

The vampire felt as if he couldn’t be any more smug than he was right then, knowing the reference went off without a hitch. That and he felt somewhat vindicated over the stupid nickname Dante had given him. Ugh, Sugar Garbage. Even thinking of it made Alex wince on the inside, hoping Dante kept it to himself.

 

_“A wizard, certainly not, no cheap tricks and smokescreens for this one. Something else… can’t quite put my finger on it. But powerful.”_

 

Even if Alex had originally been speculating the other night on their car ride into New York, he couldn’t help but feel more convinced of the possibility that there was more to Dante than he’d originally realized. Just barely making it out of deadly situations against impossible odds wasn’t much of a super power, or a gift, but it was something even if Alex couldn’t understand it. While he didn’t understand any of it himself, but he understood well enough if Dante was some ordinary hunter they wouldn’t have made it this far, with or without Alex’s help.

 

_“Okay, then, where’s all this power at? What, do I snap my fingers three times and disappear? You two can stop with all your conspiracy theories already, I’m human, through and through.”_

 

“Of all the things you could do with magic why would you want to disappear?” Alex asked, giving Dante a blank look. “And what you’re supposed to do is click your heels three times and say ‘there’s no place like home,’” he paused, then felt the ghost of a smile on his lips. “But you have to wear the red slippers or it won’t work.”

 

If nothing else, Alex was determined to get revenge for Dante’s nickname antics.

 

_“I do love a good graveyard adventure, so many restless spirits to talk to. So much knowledge. Well, if you’re in the grave-robbing business boys, I might have a few plots for you to dig up for science. “_

 

There was a moment in which Alex desperately wanted to ask what kind of science was involved with robbing graves, but thought better of it. He also wanted to segue into the topic of communicating with spirits, but he knew himself too well and he doubted that would end well. While others desired to speak to the dead, Alex was doubtful he’d be happy with any conversations he might have with the deceased. That and he was sure chasing that rabbit wasn’t a good thing given his recent ups and downs.

 

_“Anyways we can get to that later. Have you eaten? Rafter’s been in the kitchen all day, made something called haggis and coddle, I think? Anyways, he’s very proud of it.”_

 

Thankfully, while he was sure his curiosity, morbid as it was, had shown up on his face, the subject shifted to something less macabre. Even more thankfully, Dante had taken the lead on getting them out of the possibility of trying out whatever it was Rafter had created in the kitchen.

 

_“Ah, what a bummer, afraid we can’t indulge, we actually have a date. All you can eat buffet I’m sure.”_

 

“All you can eat for _you_ ,” Alex said, gently elbowing Dante back while downing the last few droplets of blood left in his glass. It wasn’t the same as draining a person or animal, but a glass of fresh blood here and there would likely be more than enough to keep up his strength, which he was sure he’d need. “All you can eat for a vampire is what most people would call a crime scene,” he set the glass down, bloodlust satiated for the time being. “Or a battlefield.”

 

_“But ah, before we headed off, we were hoping Rafter might have a lead or two on where we could restock. Running kinda low in the gear department. Silver, specifically.” ... “Well, this is a hunter’s guild, it’s kind of our specialty.”_

 

Looking over at Dante, Alex had a very ‘she has a point’ kind of look on his face. Before Alex could actually say something though, he felt the phone in his pocket vibrate, indicating he’d received a text. Fishing it out of his pocket, he flipped it open and saw a message from Gabe. The message itself made Alex inwardly groan, not wanting to tell Dante what it said.

 

 _Garlic bread just went into the oven_ 👌 - Gabe

 

“Oh, before I forget I just remembered,” Alex said, looking up from his phone at Dante. He’d just remembered silver wasn’t all they’d need to collect while in the city, “we could use more holy water as well, though it’s not as high priority compared to silver.”

 

~

 

_“Of all the things you could do with magic why would you want to disappear?....But you have to wear the red slippers or it won’t work.”_

 

“Well look at you pulling out all the pop culture references,” Dante grumbled churlishly, still feeling more than a little picked on with all this power and magic nonsense. “And there might be some very convenient times to disappear, sugar garbage. From this conversation, for starters.” He was fairly confident Alex was still pissed at him about the unwelcome nickname, but two could play that game. In fact, he could play stubborn chicken until he died.

 

 _“All you can eat for_ you _… All you can eat for a vampire is what most people would call a crime scene… or a battlefield.”_

 

“Maybe we’re in the wrong line of work, we should be playing CSI,” Dante shot back.

 

_“We could use more holy water as well, though it’s not as high priority compared to silver.”_

 

“Now, that we have,” Sadie wagged a finger at him, “get a priest to come in and bless a vat of spring water every other Thursday.”

 

“Well damn. That’s… efficient…” Dante wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Where the bar he remembered had been a rag-tag hole in the wall barely staying afloat, it appeared to now run like a well-oiled machine. Tavern, hotel, hair salon, and apparently supply depot. It was truly impressive how far it had come.

 

Speak of the devil, apparently done singing, Rafter wandered over, wrapping his wife in what looked like a terrifying bear hug from behind before releasing her and grinning at Alex and Dante. “Looks like missus been taking good care of you boys,” he beamed.

 

“Fantastic care in fact,” Dante added, “and we were just picking her brains on where we might be able to come up with some silver and holy water.”

 

“Ah, holy water’s in the back,” Rafter unknowingly repeated Sadie’s comment, jerking a big thumb over his shoulder. “Silver, ah well. How much do you need?”

 

Dante stared at the man incredulously. “Well we’re not storming a castle,” he clarified carefully, knowing that was probably the volume the Irishman was already considering.

 

Rafter looked a little disappointed. “Shame. Anyways, yer always welcome to pick through my armory, ya know. Shit’s all collecting dust these days anyhow.”

 

“Oh, no way. You guys have already done so much for us, we don’t want to be any more of a...” Dante shook his head, all ready to turn that down flat, but the stormy glare the Irishman leveled at him had his snapping his jaw shut quick. He swallowed quickly. For all his attempts to warn Alex about Rafter’s overdeveloped sense of generosity, apparently Dante was the one about to piss him off.

 

“Think nothing of it,” Sadie was quick to smooth things over, “you boys are family, after all. Our home is yours.”

 

Rafter ‘harrumphed’ to himself, but dropped it. “Now if yer lookin’ for some raw silver, I know a guy. He comes in here occasionally, but he’s got a shop too, up in Woodhaven if memory serves.”

 

“Sounds promising,” Dante wondered how much they could get for two hundred and some change, not that blowing it all in once place would be a smart idea either.

 

“Tell him I sent you, he owes me in a big way,” Rafter laughed at a joke only he was privy to, making Dante wonder just what kind of story might be behind that. For the sake of time, he elected not to ask.

 

Rafter buzzed away without further explanation, returning in a matter of moments with two liter-sized canteens which he plopped down on the counter in front of them.

 

“Uh, thanks?” Dante nodded when there was no explanation forthcoming, listening to Sadie chuckle into her glass at his expression.

 

“Now I know it ain’t the level you fancy priest type are used to,” Rafter rambled on, “but it works, tried and true. Got a parish priest outta Saint Mark’s in my pocket, does a mighty fine job.”

 

“Kid tested, hunter approved?” Dante grinned, borrowing the bartowel to wipe off the dripping green containers. "We really appreciate it, Raf."

 

~

 

_“Well look at you pulling out all the pop culture references. And there might be some very convenient times to disappear, sugar garbage. From this conversation, for starters.”_

 

For a split second, the vampire felt pretty good about his handle on the few references he’d made. Then again, the Wizard of Oz was hardly as recent as ‘freezing with a subscription service,’ but he wasn’t that out of touch. The moment was ruined as soon as the dreaded nickname left Dante’s mouth. Alex grimaced, wishing desperately that Dante would keep his voice just below a whisper when saying it, or not say it at all.

 

_“Maybe we’re in the wrong line of work, we should be playing CSI.”_

 

“We have hunted human predators a few times,” the vampire commented, musing over how badly that had gone recently. “It wouldn’t be a stretch to get into investigating crime scenes, but I’m pretty sure you need a clean record to get into law enforcement and I’m lacking an _official_ record to begin with so...”

 

Thinking over the merits of crime scene investigation did make Alex realize something he hadn’t really put much thought into in a very long time. To his knowledge and after seeing his own gravestone, he was certain that officially speaking he was probably declared dead in absentia around 1925. Meaning all records of him would have ended at that point, which put a damper on any ideas or plans of doing anything in any official or legal capacity. Silently, Alex wondered if it was a good thing that he didn’t have a social security number to begin with, given that he ‘died’ almost ten years before that system was established.

 

~

 

_“Now, that we have, get a priest to come in and bless a vat of spring water every other Thursday.” “Well damn. That’s… efficient…”_

 

Despite the subject matter being the vampire equivalent of a face full of acid, Alex was pleasantly surprised to hear they wouldn’t have to chase down a priest themselves. Not that there was a shortage in New York as far as Alex could tell, but this just meant less leg work for them and one less thing to worry about. Knowing what he knew now, Alex was thrilled he hadn’t tried to talk Dante out of coming to this city of all places. If they’d gone to any other city, he was sure they’d be hiding out in a ditch chasing after leads.

 

_“Looks like missus been taking good care of you boys,” ... “Fantastic care in fact, and we were just picking her brains on where we might be able to come up with some silver and holy water.”_

 

There was a moment in which Alex wanted to urge Dante to bring up the seals and all the other witchy things he’d been researching the other night. However, it occurred to him that given his partner’s unenthusiastic reaction to talking about magic a bit ago, maybe now wasn’t the best time. Glancing between Rafter and Dante, it also occurred to the vampire maybe now would be a bad time simply because of how much they were already asking for in terms of supplies.

 

_“Ah, holy water’s in the back. Silver, ah well. How much do you need? Well we’re not storming a castle.”_

 

Interlacing his fingers, Alex rested his chin on his joined hands, wondering just how much silver would technically be enough. For now it made sense to get enough to last the duration of their stay, but they’d definitely need to stockpile before they left. In an ideal world, the vampire would have wholeheartedly been on board with getting their hands on enough silver to storm a castle.

 

_“Shame. Anyways, yer always welcome to pick through my armory, ya know. Shit’s all collecting dust these days anyhow.” “Oh, no way. You guys have already done so much for us, we don’t want to be any more of a...”_

 

“There’s an armory?” Alex said, eyebrows raising along with his interest in the topic at hand. “First you didn’t tell me there was a library,” he said, looking at Dante accusingly, “and now there’s an armory. ...Though given that this is a _hunter_ guild I shouldn’t be all that surprised.”

 

_“Think nothing of it, you boys are family, after all. Our home is yours.” “Now if yer lookin’ for some raw silver, I know a guy. He comes in here occasionally, but he’s got a shop too, up in Woodhaven if memory serves.”_

 

If Rafter hadn’t put his worried about local hunters to rest the other night, Alex might have been wary of visiting the shop with Dante. Given what he knew now, he made a mental note to look into finding the shop before sunrise after they were done in the cemetery. Speaking of, right then it occurred to Alex that he wasn’t sure how exactly he was going to carry around anything he looted from his own grave while trapezing around the city. As if answering his question, his phone pinged again and he glanced at it, a small smile tugging at his lips.

 

 _Don’t worry about it, I’m borrowing my cousin’s car._ \- Gabe.

 

_“Sounds promising,” ... “Tell him I sent you, he owes me in a big way,”_

 

Lost in thought, Alex almost wished they had more time to sit around and swap stories. For one, he was sure there was plenty Dante hadn’t told Rafter, or anyone else for that matter, about all the things they got up to over the course of four years. That is, unless Dante was somehow keeping up correspondence with other hunters without him knowing, which wasn’t an idea Alex wanted to entertain for reasons he couldn’t explain. That and the vampire was sure there was a collective of knowledge floating in and out of the bar everyday they hadn’t tapped into just yet.

 

Adding another mental note to his growing list, Alex decided maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to make time to at least try to mingle. Which was easier said than done, as so far the only people besides Dante he’d spoken to had been Sadie and Rafter. As reassured as he was that no one was going to try to dust him here, their past encounters with random hunters had left a bitter taste in the vampire’s mouth that left him hesitant.

 

_“Now I know it ain’t the level you fancy priest type are used to, but it works, tried and true. Got a parish priest outta Saint Mark’s in my pocket, does a mighty fine job.”_

 

The sight of two canteens placed in front of them left Alex confused, until he realized the scent coming from them was the neutral scent of water. It was strange seeing holy water in canteens, as up until now they’d usually ended up with vials of the stuff, but this was much more efficient it seemed.

 

_“Kid tested, hunter approved?” ... "We really appreciate it, Raf."_

 

Watching Dante wipe the containers down, Alex still had less than zero desire to touch the things. Silver was one thing, if it touched or cut him it would burn and take a while to heal up, but it was usually solid. Holy water, on the other hand, essentially did the same thing, but it soaked through clothing and as sturdy as his gloves were, there was still hesitance when it came to handling the stuff.

 

“I’d hate to cut things short,” Alex piped up, sounding regretful because he really did like the easy conversational atmosphere of the bar, “but we really should be heading out soon.” Checking the time, then looking up from his phone, he added “it’s date night and Dante’s dinner might get cold.”

 

~

 

 _“First you didn’t tell me there was a library...and now there’s an armory. ...Though given that this is a_ hunter _guild I shouldn’t be all that surprised.”_

 

Dante spluttered defensively, “what, I didn’t know there was an armory… or a library, for that matter. Most hunters keep their shit in a closet, or a trunk...” Apparently, the guild was full of surprises. He could only imagine what else had changed over the years. If he was being honest though, digging through Rafter’s armory sounded like a fun way to pass the time.

 

Dante tucked the canteens into his duffel bag where it rested on the floor by his feet. A little went a long way, so barring any wasteful mishaps, that amount was likely to last them for ages. Back in the day, he’d made a few vials stretch for months. Not that he’d had much of a choice. The ideas of the weapons he could make with this much were already racing through his head, though he knew all that would have to wait for later.

 

_“I’d hate to cut things short but we really should be heading out soon… it’s date night and Dante’s dinner might get cold.”_

 

Dante pasted on a fake smile and just as quickly dropped it, casting a withering look at his partner. Hell, it was no wonder Rafter was convinced they were a couple. From the outside looking in, he was sure he’d think the same thing. The idea was strangely painful. “So right, _babe_ ,” he forced out between his teeth, “you know me. Can’t stand cold food, refined palette and all that.” Even as he said it he was kinda hoping tonight's dinner involved a double bacon cheeseburger, cold or otherwise.

 

“Always rushing off to somewhere,” Rafter affected a hurt tone, though it was clear he was joking. “You boys have fun, right? Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

 

Dante raised an incredulous eyebrow, “yeah, I’m sure that’s a pretty short list. Thanks again.” The hunter waved gratefully at the pair as they made for the door, wincing as Rafter leaned down to whisper something to Sadie that made her giggle, watching them go. God, they were really convinced.

 

Dante thought about saying something to Alex about it, but that would require so much explanation he didn’t have the heart for. So far off base. So close to home.

 

So we act like we’re together but we’re not, but god I wish we were, and everyone around is completely convinced we’re a couple but I don’t want you to change or act differently or anything, k?

 

“Do we know if the other credit card works,” he forced himself to say instead as they climbed the steps up to street level. He gave the bouncer a weird look, wondering what he was exactly, if not human, before they stepped out into the chill air. “How did your buddy know the first one was gonna get declined, anyways? Kinda creepy.”

 

For his own sake, he was kinda hoping this Gabe kid ended up being a serial killer or something. Or a shapeshifter or a demon or a ghost or pretty much anything other than a perfectly innocuous descendant of someone Alex had known ages ago. He could definitely use a distraction from all this emotional turmoil bubbling inside him like an unwelcome volcano. Sure, he was irritated by all the relationship talk… but mostly it just stung, like salt in an open wound.

 

“So, we flag down a taxi,” Dante desperately tried to distract himself, taking in a long breath of salty air, “hit this restaurant, graveyard, maybe the pawn shop if we’ve got time?” Coming up with a battle plan, focusing, seemed like the best way to drag his brain out of the proverbial drain.

 

~

 

_“What, I didn’t know there was an armory… or a library, for that matter. Most hunters keep their shit in a closet, or a trunk...”_

 

“You knew about the library before you fell asleep,” Alex said, knowing he might be being a little petty since Dante had been drunk and tired. “But I suppose I can let the armory thing slide...just this once though.”

 

Even if they didn’t actually use anything in the armory, Alex was fairly certain he still wanted to look. Admiring was one thing, but then he wondered if there were any stories attached to anything in Rafter’s armory. For now it appeared he’d have to wait to find out.

 

 _“So right,_ babe _, you know me. Can’t stand cold food, refined palette and all that.”_

 

Alex couldn’t help but beam as Dante put on a fake smile for all be half a second. In his own way, he felt like they were almost even for the sugar garbage nonsense. Still, while it had been somewhat amusing, he felt a faint pang in his chest at ‘babe’ which was several leagues above ‘sugar garbage.’ The problem was he couldn’t tell Dante that. Even now, Alex could almost imagine the laughter and outright rejection that would follow. If Dante actually liked him that way he would have reacted to him occasionally flirting. Even then, with or without flirting, Alex hadn’t know Dante to avoid things he liked or wanted. Snickers bars, for example.

 

“Let’s hope that refined palette can handle a vegetable or two, dear,” Alex retorted, a little bitter about being half a notch above a snickers bar on a good day.

 

_“Yeah, I’m sure that’s a pretty short list. Thanks again.”_

 

As they left, Alex hadn’t paid much mind to whatever it was Rafter had whispered to Sadie. The notion that people thought they were an actual couple hadn’t dawned on him just yet. Not to mention, his thoughts were otherwise preoccupied with a number of things. Bitterness was one such thing, but then there was that longing again and Alex had to push it down. The last thing he wanted was to say something stupid. That or risk Dante realizing he might have been a bit more serious in his flirting than he’d let on.

 

There was also the matter of getting Dante to eat his vegetables. Maybe even the matter of making sure Dante didn’t say anything assholeish or accuse Gabe of being an axe murderer. If nothing else, the vampire was sure that would ruin the evening. He really, desperately wanted to have a good night, even if this wasn’t actually a date.

 

_“Do we know if the other credit card works? How did your buddy know the first one was gonna get declined, anyways? Kinda creepy.”_

 

“Not a clue if the other one works,” Alex replied with a shrug. “If I were to take a guess, he probably ‘saw’ me trying it and getting declined. I could always ask—”

 

Before Alex could finish his sentence, his phone pinged, prompting him to check his phone. He smiled faintly at the text, then tucked his phone away.

 

“Gabe texted, apparently the card holder of the remaining card thinks it’s his ‘sugar baby’ racking up a debt on the account and he hasn’t canceled yet.” For a long moment, Alex was silent, thinking and then, “do I want to know what a ‘sugar baby’ is? ...This doesn’t have anything to do with that stupid nickname, does it?”

 

Alex worried for a moment there was another layer, a reference or something, he was missing. It wouldn’t be the first or last time he’d inadvertently fallen for a prank that relied on his lack of knowledge of the modern world. Then again, Dante had never actually been malicious with that sort of thing. If anything, Alex had only ever been dismayed, exasperate and occasionally amused as well.

 

_“So, we flag down a taxi, hit this restaurant, graveyard, maybe the pawn shop if we’ve got time?”_

 

“That makes the most sense, it’d be easier than walking,” Alex said with a nod. “And I’m getting the impression it’ll be a while before that card gets shut off, so the fare shouldn’t be an issue.”

 

Taking the initiative, Alex went ahead and flagged down a taxi, then gave the driver the address. The worst part of the exchange was the driver thinking he was from out of town. Apparently, the restaurant they were going to was fairly popular and Alex not knowing the place was some indicator of not being from around here.

 

Climbing into the backseat, Alex looked sullen. This likely wasn’t going to be the last time he’d feel out of place somewhere so close to what used to be ‘home’ to him.

 

“I kind of wish we asked Sadie about that seal before we left,” he mused aloud. “But it might have been a lot to ask so soon like that. ...Besides, wouldn’t learning how to break a seal count as learning magic?”

 


	10. Home is Wherever I'm With You (a)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Date night, disagreement over food choices, and some serial killings in the news.

_ “You knew about the library before you fell asleep...But I suppose I can let the armory thing slide...just this once though.” _

 

Dante rolled his eyes, unwilling to argue. He also didn’t want to revisit the scrambled line of logic his drunk psyche had been following, not that there was much logic involved at all. He did regret not having the presence of mind to snag his partner a book or two, at least. He wasn’t sure what kind of books had been on the floor-to-ceiling shelves, but considering how odd their entire stay had been so far he was willing to put money on something ancient and useful. 

 

_ “Let’s hope that refined palette can handle a vegetable or two, dear.” _

 

Dante didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. He could only cross his fingers and hope vegetables weren’t on the menu, wherever they ended up. 

 

_ “Gabe texted, apparently the cardholder of the remaining card thinks it’s his ‘sugar baby’ racking up a debt on the account and he hasn’t canceled yet….do I want to know what a ‘sugar baby’ is?” _

 

Dante laughed quietly to himself, feeling some of the tension bleed out of him at the easy familiarity of an old conversation. “You probably don’t want to know, just like I don’t wanna know how the hell he could possibly know that.” 

 

The hunter was quiet as Alex hailed a cab, feeling distracted. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him to act ‘normal,’ a concept that was becoming more and more convoluted. Whatever part of him that was drawn to Alex like a magnet--obsessed, even--he wished he could just rip out of his chest and fling into the ocean. He hated himself for being like this. Fixated, stubborn, unable to let go the things he held onto the tightest. The things that were so damn self-destructive. 

 

Dante grinned to himself at Alex’s expression, joining him in the backseat of the cab, but decided to have mercy and not rub it in. It was clear being back in New York was taking its toll on the vampire, not that Dante could exactly blame him. He was sure he wouldn’t have reacted half as gracefully to coming back to a place that held bittersweet memories and seeing how much it had changed. Hard to tell though considering such a place didn’t really exist for him. There was Rafter’s guild, all good memories, full of longing and nostalgia, and there was Saint Andrews. Full of anger and pain and raging hatred. As always, his life didn’t allow for any middle ground. Everything was always either hot or cold. A raging inferno or an ice storm. 

 

_ “I kind of wish we asked Sadie about that seal before we left… but it might have been a lot to ask so soon like that. ...Besides, wouldn’t learning how to break a seal count as learning magic?” _

 

Dante cast a sidelong glance at his partner, not knowing how to explain that he’d wanted to get out of there before the conversation took an awkward turn. “I’ll ask her tonight if they’re still up and about when we get back,” he responded as a compromise. “Besides, I don’t even know yet if I’ll be able to use it. Hell, I think you count as magic more than I do... Is there such a thing as vampire witches?” 

 

Dante wasn’t honestly sure if he was more concerned that he wouldn’t be able to use the seal after all, or that he would. Besides the unbearable smugness, he was sure he could look forward to in the latter case, it seemed like it would raise more questions than it would answer. Something about the idea that there was anything in him like...that, didn’t sit easy with him. 

 

“I need a fucking smoke,” Dante mumbled, rubbing his eyes hard. While the raging hangover that had plagued him when he first woke up had subsided to a dull roar in his ears, he was still feeling conflicted and tense. “Don’t hate me if I need to sneak a fix before we eat….”

 

~

 

_ “You probably don’t want to know, just like I don’t wanna know how the hell he could possibly know that.”  _

 

“...Is this like the frozen subscription service stuff?” Alex asked, frowning just a bit as he realized he fucked up the name, but for the life of him couldn’t remember it. “Flixnet, or something...” he sighed, “just wait until you’re over the hill and nothing makes sense anymore. Anyway, you can always ask Gabe himself when you meet him, I’m sure you kids will have an easier time conversing.” 

 

For the most part, Alex was glad Dante kept whatever he was going to say to himself. The vampire recognized that grin too well. Thankfully, before Alex’s mood could deteriorate too much over being so out of time and place, Dante easily went along with the topic shifting to magic.

 

_ “I’ll ask her tonight if they’re still up and about when we get back. Besides, I don’t even know yet if I’ll be able to use it. Hell, I think you count as magic more than I do... Is there such a thing as vampire witches?”  _

 

“I think anything magical about me is in my blood,” there was a pause, as Alex contemplated that. “To be fair, I drained most of mine when Nikolai burst in and filled me up with his, so I suppose...well...hmm...” 

 

After alluding to the fact that Nikolai hadn’t actually been the one to kill him, Alex thought for a moment whether the blood in his veins was biologically his own. He didn’t understand the physiology of it all, but had always suspected the blood he drank served the same purpose as humans eating and drinking, serving as building blocks for him to replenish his own blood. It made sense, in a way, but the vampire decided there was no point in approaching it from a purely scientific angle.

 

“I wonder if what’s keeping me up and running is blood magic,” he paused again, thinking, “or something darker, I don’t think I’ve ever put much thought into it. That being said, as far as Nikolai and the coven elders were concerned, they didn’t exactly know where we came from. If it’s blood magic then maybe vampire witches is more accurate than you meant to be. See? I knew you were gifted.” 

 

During the taxi ride, Alex looked like he was still thinking, though his thoughts shifted from vampire biology, or lack of, it went right back to the subject of magic. Specifically, the subject of Dante and magic, together. It hadn’t seemed like a stretch to him, for all of his brash behavior, Dante was intelligent and if magic involved learning seals and stuff from a book, he was confident his partner wouldn’t have too hard of a time with it.

 

“Would it really be so bad?” He asked suddenly, “even if we were to go along with your ‘I’m nothing special’ theory, would there really be anything wrong with you trying it out? I mean, it would be helpful if I ever get entangled in some kind of magical vampire trap again or if we needed an edge on a hunt.” 

 

_ “I need a fucking smoke. Don’t hate me if I need to sneak a fix before we eat….” _

 

“When have I ever gotten between you and your cancer sticks?” Alex deadpanned, having occasionally been an enabler when it came to Dante’s nicotine habit. “I swear, I think you’d place killing your lungs at the same level as a snickers bar.” 

 

Soon enough, they arrived at the location Gabe had given them. The restaurant was nice, not suit and tie nice, but clearly doing well for itself. Through the windows, it seemed that they were in the middle of a dinner rush, but knowing what he knew now about Gabe, Alex had a feeling that wouldn’t matter.

 

Climbing out of the taxi, Alex slung his duffle bag over his shoulder. Pausing, he reached into his pocket for his wallet, unsure if he’d given Dante the working credit card back. Given that his partner had been drunk the other night, he couldn’t be sure if he’d given it back to Dante right away.

 

“If nothing else, don’t be rude, he doesn’t have to feed you,” Alex said after they paid their fare, worried once again Dante would accuse Gabe of being a serial killer or something. “Or help us dig up my grave.”

 

~

 

_ “...Is this like the frozen subscription service stuff?...Flixnet, or something…. Anyway, you can always ask Gabe himself when you meet him, I’m sure you kids will have an easier time conversing.”  _

 

“Us kids…?” Dante made a face, “gee thanks, grandpa. It’s Netflix, by the way. Close but no cigar.”

 

_ “I think anything magical about me is in my blood...To be fair, I drained most of mine when Nikolai burst in and filled me up with his, so I suppose...well...hmm...”  _

 

The hunter gave Alex a look, wondering why after all this time, he was just now finding out the little details. Maybe neither of them had been all that forthcoming about their early years, Alex’s quite a bit earlier, literally speaking, than his own, but still. 

 

“So…. Nikolai turned you,” Dante worked out carefully, again unsure of when to ask and when to stay quiet, “but why?” He’d always assumed Nikolai had turned Alex the way most vampires did their fledglings, death first and blood second, but it didn’t sound like that was the case. 

 

_ “I wonder if what’s keeping me up and running is blood magic...or something darker, I don’t think I’ve ever put much thought into it.” _

 

That was something Dante hadn’t considered before. Where vampires came from, originally, or what drove their transformation in the first place. Maybe magic was a factor, maybe something more menacing. 

 

_ “Would it really be so bad?” ...even if we were to go along with your ‘I’m nothing special’ theory, would there really be anything wrong with you trying it out? I mean, it would be helpful if I ever get entangled in some kind of magical vampire trap again or if we needed an edge on a hunt.”  _

 

Dante grimaced. Alex really knew how to pull his puppet strings, he’d give him that much. The hunter would do anything for his partner, including exploring the unwelcome theory that anything remotely magical might be within their reach. While he couldn’t deny it would be useful, it would be difficult to face Alex if he couldn’t use it after all.

 

“I’ll try,” he agreed reluctantly, “no promises it’ll be successful.” He didn’t want to get Alex’s hopes up, especially since he seemed oddly invested in the idea. After all, there was nothing more terrifying than the moment that the vampire finally realized, after all this time, that Dante truly was nothing special. 

 

_ “When have I ever gotten between you and your cancer sticks? I swear, I think you’d place killing your lungs at the same level as a snickers bar.”  _

 

Dante shrugged concedingly, unable to argue with that. “Eh, depends on the day,” he finally said flatly. “At the moment, I’m leaning towards the cancer sticks.”

 

The cab pulled up to the curb and Dante swallowed hard at the sight of the restaurant, already feeling more than a little out of place. He was far more familiar with gas station delis and diner bar tops than anything like this. Compared to his usual haunts, this might as well have been a five-star restaurant. 

 

Chiding himself for his nerves, Dante fished out the last remaining credit card and handed it to Alex, letting him take care of paying the cabbie. The place was a damn restaurant, a prison, even if his brain was having a hard time differentiating between the two. 

 

_ “If nothing else, don’t be rude, he doesn’t have to feed you…. Or help us dig up my grave.” _

 

Dante sighed, stepping onto the sidewalk and pulling out his dwindling box of cigarettes. “Nobody has to feed me, I’m not a pet,” he griped testily, flicking at his lighter until it sparked. As usual, he was avoiding the fact that Alex was right. He was planning on being on his best behavior, of course… he figured he owed his partner that much, but he still wasn’t a fan of mingling with normal people. Normal meant crowds. Crowds meant danger.

 

Flicking his cigarette butt to the pavement and grinding it under his heel, the hunter thought wistfully about lighting up another one. Whether he smoked one or ten, he knew there was no delaying the inevitable. 

 

“Shall we?” He gestured towards the door, shoulders slumping in defeat. “I promise to try not to bring up axe murderers. Scouts honor.”

 

~

 

_ “So…. Nikolai turned you.” _

 

Alex only nodded, not entirely sure if he wanted to talk about any of this, though with how things had been lately, he didn’t want to hold back anything. If he wanted Dante to start opening up more for him, he supposed it’d help for him to open up more to start them off. War stories and tales of hunting other vampires were one thing, but delving into the more personal side of things was where Alex always feared things could get messy or complicated. 

 

_ “...but why?” _

 

“I can’t claim to understand what goes on in that psychopath’s head,” Alex said, pulling his jacket sleeve up, revealing the deep scar along his right forearm. “But if I were to take a guess, I’d say he wasn’t ready to let his human pet die.” 

 

There was a long moment in which Alex worried he’d said too much, unsure if this would make Dante think worse of him or not. A part of him wanted to spill every little detail, but knew it might only spur his partner on in finding Alex’s sire and dusting him. That was something Alex wasn’t sure he was ready to deal with, mostly because Dante would be putting himself in danger. There was also some indescribable feeling holding Alex back from seriously pursuing the idea of hunting Nikolai down and ending him. It was a dangerous feeling, he knew that much, and avoided thinking about it as much as he could. 

 

“I didn’t see an end in sight,” Alex said softly, pulling his sleeve back down, covering the scar. “Day after day, I could never tell what he’d do to me, he’d even keep me on my toes by not doing anything to me some days, I couldn’t... couldn’t live with the uncertainty and it had been over a year of it... I didn’t want to imagine the rest of my life like that, so I decided to end it with a broken mirror.” 

 

Letting that hang in the air, Alex wasn’t sure where to go from there. His feelings towards his sire were mixed, a jumble of confusion and hate and that emotion he didn’t have a name for, but felt strongly. 

 

“He came in, I guess he smelled all the blood because he was frantic,” Alex continued, the words spilling out now. “He drove me to do it and then had the audacity to look regretful, as if he didn’t want to turn me, but knew I’d die anyway if he didn’t. So he tore his wrist open and made me drink, I wasn’t strong enough to fend him off on a good day and I didn’t stand a chance while bleeding to death.” 

 

_ “I’ll try, no promises it’ll be successful.”  _

 

“You never know until you try,” the vampire couldn’t help the smile that resurfaced after talking about something morbid minutes ago. “I’m just glad you’re giving it a chance, rather than shooting it down for no reason. Worst case scenario is we’re wrong and it’s not magic that makes you _you_.”

 

_ “Eh, depends on the day. At the moment, I’m leaning towards the cancer sticks.” _

 

“I’m so glad you chose to compare me to the stuff that causes diabetes and not the stuff that causes cancer,” Alex responded, dryly. 

 

With the cab paid for, Alex stepped onto the sidewalk to join his partner who was already getting a cigarette out. If the vampire didn’t associate the smell of smoke with his partner so intensely, he might have avoided enabling the bad happened. As it was, he was pretty sure he was only contributing to his partner’s inevitable demise, but if it made Dante happy, who was he to interfere? 

 

_ “Nobody has to feed me, I’m not a pet.”  _

 

Alex flinched, not because of Dante’s testy tone, but the unintentional reminder of the conversation they had on their way here. Hands in his pockets, he shook his head, “what I mean is no one is obligated to give us decent food free of charge, out of the goodness of their hearts or whatever you want to call it. If he’s anything like David, I’m sure he’ll try to get me to eat something.” 

 

_ “Shall we? I promise to try not to bring up axe murderers. Scouts honor.” _

 

“I don’t believe you’ve ever been a Boy Scout,” was the skeptical response Alex gave. 

 

Looking towards the door, Alex felt a mix of apprehension. He didn’t like crowds all that much, or people for that matter. What he really didn’t like was the looks he got from people, or being overwhelmed by the sights, smells, and noise, but he had to make acceptions. Right now was clearly one of those times. Pushing the door open, Alex held it from the inside, waiting for Dante to join him. 

 

“Hey, you made it,” a boy of around nineteen said from behind the host podium, his honey brown eyes sparkled in the dim lighting as he looked between the vampire and hunter, practically beaming. His name tag read ‘Gabe’ and even though he had a set of menus in his hand, he’d already had a decent guesstimate of what the orders were going to be. “I’ve already got your table set up, if you’ll follow me...” 

 

With that, Gabe started off towards the back of the restaurant, away from the bulk of the rush and towards a more intimate setting. Normally this might have pissed off the wait staff, given the distance and the lack of tips they’d be able to collect easily, but they weren’t about to argue with the owner’s son. 

 

“Here we are,” he said, at a booth where the rest of the restaurant was only background noise and the music playing over the speakers was discernible. “I’ll be right back, tables 4, 11, and 21 are in need of refills and while I’m over that way I’ll put your orders in.” 

 

With that, Gabe hurried off. Sliding into one side of the booth, Alex was a little dazed, still not entirely used to Gabe doing whatever it was he was doing. Dave had been intuitive in life, but nothing like this. Alex had always assumed Dave was just very perceptive and had a strong sense of self-preservation, but now after meeting his descendant, he wondered if it had been more than that. 

 

“So...” he started, looking at Dante, trying to gauge how well his partner was handling being here. “It’s not too bad, so far, no crazed hunters or vampires chasing us down.”

 

~

 

_ “I can’t claim to understand what goes on in that psychopath’s head...But if I were to take a guess, I’d say he wasn’t ready to let his human pet die.”  _

 

There was a moment where Dante’s mind went blank as he tried to process that, but it just wasn’t happening. He could only listen in silence, unable to interrupt.

 

_ “I didn’t see an end in sight... I didn’t want to imagine the rest of my life like that, so I decided to end it with a broken mirror.”  _

 

Like screenshots flashing through his mind, Dante unwillingly thought of all the nights he’d spent alone in cheap hotel rooms, sitting on the floor. Sometimes drinking. Usually painfully sober. Earphones in, Bob Seger cranked up to a volume never quite loud enough to drown himself out… his gun in his hand. He thought of all the times he’d put the barrel in his mouth and tried to pull the trigger. The unnameable force that had somehow stopped him every time. He’d always felt like he was waiting for something. 

 

_ “He came in, I guess he smelled all the blood because he was frantic…..So he tore his wrist open and made me drink...” _

 

Dante was quiet for a while, thinking of all the things he wished he wasn’t too cowardly to say. It was difficult to hear, that Alex had ever been in such a dark place that death seemed like the only option. It hit close to home. On top of that, it just renewed the spark of hatred Dante felt towards Nikolai.

 

“For what it’s worth, I get it,” he managed to say quietly, “I mean, I really get it.” 

 

There was so much more hanging there unspoken, but he just didn’t have the guts. He didn’t know how Alex did it, talked so openly about things like this. Not that it seemed easy, but somehow he still did it. In that way--in a lot of ways-- the vampire was braver than Dante would ever be.

 

“I know it was a shitty road to get here but," he spoke softly, unable to look up for fear of giving away the weight behind what he was saying, "I’m glad you’re here.” With me. 

 

Dante meant it, maybe selfishly. He wondered, not for the first time, how so many small things, seemingly trivial details, could have come together like this, converging their two impossibly different paths into one. If he wasn’t such a skeptic he might have been tempted to chalk it up to fate, or destiny, or some other higher power. 

  
  


-

  
  


_ “What I mean is no one is obligated to give us decent food free of charge, out of the goodness of their hearts or whatever you want to call it...”  _

 

Dante knew what the vampire meant, and he was pretty sure Alex knew what he meant, so he was just left feeling mildly irritated and no less uncomfortable about the idea. Still, he kept his mouth shut, which took a lot more willpower than it should have, and followed his partner inside. 

 

Once in the restaurant, Dante eyed the boy behind the podium, surprised somehow by how young he was. He tried for a polite smile, but it slowly faded as he caught his eyes. They were somehow familiar, a thought that distracted him as the pair wordlessly followed him through the busy restaurant. Thankfully they were guided to a more secluded area. 

 

He nodded his thanks as they were breezed into their seat, everything moving so quickly. It seemed like Gabe was completely in control of everything like he knew what they wanted before they did themselves. It was a little disconcerting, but at least he wasn’t getting any axe-murder vibes off the guy.

 

Dante watched Gabe leave, his mind flickering back to the strange dream he’d had just a few hours ago. Slowly, the image clicked into place. It was the same face, the same eyes. Somehow he’d seen Gabe, in the cemetery last night with Alex. But that was impossible. 

 

_ “So… It’s not too bad, so far, no crazed hunters or vampires chasing us down.” _

 

Still staring blankly after the spot where Gabe had vanished from, Dante tried to drag himself back to the present. “Yeah, no,” he forced himself to return his attention to his partner, still confused by the dream he couldn’t explain, “it’s not too bad…”

 

Looking around at their surroundings, Dante pursed his lips thoughtfully. “So… when’s the last time you actually sit down and ate, at a place like this? Pretty sure it’s a first for me.”

 

~

 

_ “For what it’s worth, I get it. I mean, I really get it.”  _

 

Alex looked over at Dante, pleasantly surprised at first because his revelation didn’t make his partner think less of him. There was no condemnation, no assertion that the attempt was a cowardly act, both things he feared to hear especially from someone he cared about. What made the surprise less pleasant was the implications of what Dante was saying.

 

“You didn’t...” He started, not wanting to believe and not wanting to chase that train of thought. “Have I mentioned that it would absolutely kill me if you weren’t here?” But it was too late and he felt as if he were slipping down a slope too steep to climb back up.

 

_ “I know it was a shitty road to get here but, I’m glad you’re here.”  _

 

“I can’t believe I’m finding reasons to be glad Nikolai didn’t leave me to die in a pool of my own blood,” the vampire said after a moment, knowing if not for that they wouldn’t be here together. “Or that he didn’t just let me die of old age or something else. If I hadn’t...done what I did, I have no doubt he would have never turned me. I shouldn’t be glad to be here, not...as what I am, but I can’t say I’m unhappy.” 

 

Turning to look away from his partner, it occurred to Alex that nonchalantly flirting with his partner was much easier than having an actual heart to heart conversation like this. He felt vulnerable but confident that of everyone he’d ever known, Dante wouldn’t exploit or use that vulnerability against him. The vampire hadn’t been exaggerating to Rafter the other night about how much he trusted his partner, even more than himself at times.

 

~~~

 

_ “Yeah, no, it’s not too bad…” _

 

“Got something on your mind?” Alex asked, not sure if Dante was still suspicious of Gabe or what. “At least he didn’t seat us right in the middle of all the chaos back there,” he added, referring to the more crowded section at the front of the place. “I’m sure my ears would be ringing if he had.” 

 

_ “So… when’s the last time you actually sit down and ate, at a place like this?”  _

 

Alex thought for a moment, knowing the fact that he didn’t need to eat made going out to eat at a place like this kind of pointless. Even now, he was mostly here because Dante needed to eat and because Gabe had invited them. Prior to that during his brief stint as a human captive amongst vampires, all his meals were solitary and usually in his cell by himself. He’d gotten sick once and Nikolai outright forbade any interactions between him and any of the other humans. When he’d lived with Vincent, just the two of them, he did most of the food prepping when he wasn’t out working.

 

“I would have to say...1923 or so, it was Vin’s mother’s birthday,” he thought for a moment, the memory coming back in greater detail. “It was maybe a month or so before I got stabbed through the hand if I’m not mixing dates up. It was nice, a bit more crowded than I’d like, but they had a big extended family, so it couldn’t really be helped.” 

 

_ “Pretty sure it’s a first for me.”  _

 

Looking across at Dante, Alex felt a pang of regret that his partner didn’t have a chance at a somewhat normal life. From what he’d gathered so far, it sounded as if life with that church had been downright Draconian. It was hard now to imagine his hot-headed partner existing under such conditions. It was easier to imagine someone trying to put out a bonfire with a fire extinguisher, come to think of it.

 

“Is it a good first so far?” Alex asked, resting the side of his face in the palm of one of his hands, his elbow resting on the edge of the table.

 

Abruptly, Gabe reappeared, this time placing a tall glass of water in front of Dante and an equally sized glass of something fizzy reeking of sugar in front of Alex. There was a newspaper tucked under one arm that he also set beside the vampire.

 

“I’ll leave you in charge of the sugar water,” he said, looking at Alex, then flashed an apologetic smile to Dante. “He would have taken it anyway, then he would have said you look dehydrated.” 

 

Alex opened his mouth, then shut it. He then gave Dante a ‘well, he’s not wrong’ kind of look from across the table.

 

“Gotta go, thought I’d drop these off,” Gabe said, walking backwards quickly. “Food should be done soon, promise.”

 

Picking the paper up, Alex eyed the headlines. It was nice having something to read when Dante was away, though right now with Dante here he was planning on saving it for later. However, something on the front page caught his eye and he wondered if Gabe had been deliberate in giving it to him as more than something to pass the time.

 

“Hey, it looks like there’s an active serial killer in town,” he commented, then looked up and away from the photos taken during some kind of press conference on the matter. “Can’t tell if this is an our kind of problem or not, but makes you wonder how many of these things aren’t actually the work of regular humans.”

 

~

 

_ “You didn’t… Have I mentioned that it would absolutely kill me if you weren’t here?”  _

 

“Not in the last hour, you haven’t,” Dante made his best attempt at levity, mostly to hide the certainly unintended effect those words had on him. He chose to ignore the unspoken question, knowing tonight was definitely not the night. If there ever would be a night. 

 

_ “I can’t believe I’m finding reasons to be glad Nikolai didn’t leave me to die in a pool of my own blood... I shouldn’t be glad to be here, not...as what I am, but I can’t say I’m unhappy.”  _

 

“Not unhappy,” Dante made a skeptical face, feeling conflicted about that remark, “guess that’s a high compliment.“

 

Again, it didn't seem like time or place to go down that road. 

 

-   
  


_ “Got something on your mind? At least he didn’t seat us right in the middle of all the chaos back there…" _

 

Dante huffed in agreement, immeasurably relieved they weren’t sitting ducks in the throng of strangers. “I uh… it’s gonna sounds crazy.” He hesitated, knowing that if he was on the receiving end of this comment he would be absolutely certain he was losing his marbles, “I just had that weird dream last night, and I saw you in the graveyard… and Gabe. I know, just my imagination, but it's a little uncanny you know. Like it seemed more like a memory, and in my head that’s what he looked like. Like exactly...” Shrugging, and now a little self-conscious, he waved it off. “Like I said, just my drunken imagination working overtime.” 

 

_ “I would have to say...1923 or so, it was Vin’s mother’s birthday...” _

 

“Oh, so, pretty much like it was yesterday,” Dante couldn’t resist the jab, gesturing to the restaurant around them. “I’m sure nothing’s changed.” 

 

_ “Is it a good first so far?”  _

 

Dante smiled at his partner, forgetting for a moment about the seemingly endless barrage of worries plaguing them. He took in how effortless and at ease the vampire looked, sharp in his new clothes. It felt so wrenchingly, beautifully normal. He couldn’t imagine anything better than this, even as unorthodox as it was. 

 

“Yeah,” he said softly, meaning it with all his heart, “it’s a really good first.”

 

Dante grinned, a real one, when Gabriel reappeared with soda and water, an expression that quickly faded when 

 

_ “I’ll leave you in charge of the sugar water… He would have taken it anyway, then he would have said you look dehydrated.”  _

 

Dante scowled darkly at Alex, having been looking forward to getting a sugar and/or caffeine fix, “seriously?” 

 

_ “Gotta go, thought I’d drop these off… Food should be done soon, promise.”  _

 

While Alex was studying the newspaper, Dante reached across the table and took the glass of Coke, taking a long drink before Alex could take it away from him. He felt like a child being told to eat his vegetables, grounded from junk food… christ, it was worse than a parent he never wanted. It was like a grandpa that wouldn’t give him sugar. 

 

“Out of curiosity… I mean not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why is he doing all this? Having us sit down here and eat.” Like a date. 

 

_ “Hey, it looks like there’s an active serial killer in town...Can’t tell if this is an our kind of problem or not, but makes you wonder how many of these things aren’t actually the work of regular humans.” _

 

“A serial killer,’ Dante nodded, reluctantly turning to the boring glass of water in him if anything because he really was dehydrated as hell, “isn’t that always our kinda thing? Human or not, fuck that guy.” He grimaced and pushed the water away, “Or girl. Equal opportunity murder and all that.”

 

~

 

_ “Not in the last hour, you haven’t.” _

 

Given his partner’s tone and lack of interest in exploring the topic further, Alex decided to drop it. He had his suspicions, but it seemed wrong to try to pry a confirmation or details out of Dante. Alex himself had only chosen to disclose the information about his own attempt at ending it all because it was both figuratively and literally an old scar. After the debacle two nights ago asking about the hunter’s parents, he’d realized a few years wasn’t nearly long enough for it not to be raw and painful to delve into.

 

_ “Not unhappy, guess that’s a high compliment." _

 

Alex gave Dante a sidelong glance, then focused ahead again, not wanting to prod at his partner when he was in this kind of mood. There had been plenty of times throughout his life when he’d had what he wanted, or close to it, and each time it always seemed to be stolen away from him. Being here in the present with Dante had been a journey filled with pain and angst, but he wasn’t miserable and certainly didn’t hate their life even if it wasn’t originally what he’d wanted.

 

~~~

 

_ “I uh… it’s gonna sounds crazy.”  _

 

“I’m sure I’ve heard crazier,” the vampire reassured, having heard, seen, and smelled all kinds of crazy things in 119 years.

 

_ “I just had that weird dream last night, and I saw you in the graveyard… and Gabe. I know, just my imagination, but it's a little uncanny you know. Like it seemed more like a memory, and in my head that’s what he looked like. Like exactly...”  _

 

If Alex wasn’t half convinced Dante was some kind of witch, clairvoyant, or something already, he might have thought his partner was finally losing it. Instead of being dismissive, he seemed curious after all he had asked about the dreams earlier, but Dante didn’t seem keen on talking about what he’d dreamt about then. 

 

“Can you describe what you saw, exactly?” He asked, wondering if Dante might have retained any details. “Did you hear anything? Like bits of conversation maybe?” 

 

_ “Like I said, just my drunken imagination working overtime.”  _

 

“In the interest of scientific curiosity, you might as well tell me everything so we can either prove or disprove whether what you saw was really,” Alex seemed insistent now, for science. “We’re going back to the cemetery after all, a cemetery you’ve never been to and wouldn’t it be interesting if you could describe it perfectly without having been there?” 

 

_ “Oh, so, pretty much like it was yesterday, I’m sure nothing’s changed.”  _

 

“‘Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book.’” Alex quoted, raising an eyebrow. “A quote attributed to Cicero around 43 BC, I believe, it’s been a while since I’ve had access to a full library. Some things change, other things are stay the same no matter the era.” 

 

_ “Yeah, it’s a really good first.” _

 

Alex couldn’t have been gladder he didn’t need to breathe, because when Dante smiled at him like that he knew it would have left him breathless. It was nice, it left a warm feeling in his chest despite the fact that he couldn’t generate his own heat. In an odd kind of way, it reminded him of standing close to a comforting fire, or how the sun felt on his skin when he was alive. The worst part was not being able to articulate this to his partner, not without ruining everything else good about their partnership. 

 

_ “Seriously?”  _

 

Alex inched the glass a little further from Dante, only to be distracted by the newspaper a moment later and then lose track of the glass. By the time he realized what Dante was doing, the hunter had already taken a long drink from it. Looking up at his partner, Alex just shook his head, it was like having a teenager to look after all over again.

 

“I just...I swear, of all the kids I’ve ever met...” The vampire huffed, then snagged the glass of Coke back, taking a long, unnecessary sip of it out of sheer spite, then setting it down again. “...At least they don’t put cocaine in it anymore.” 

 

_ “Out of curiosity… I mean not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but why is he doing all this? Having us sit down here and eat.”  _

 

“If you want to know Gabe’s motives, I’d ask him yourself,” Alex said with a shrug this time, not terribly concerned. “I’d guess it’s a hospitality thing, also, I’m not psychic so I can’t be sure.” 

 

_ “A serial killer,” _

 

As silly as it was, Alex found himself smiling just a little as Dante’s attention fell on the glass of water finally. In the last few days, he was sure the last time he saw Dante drink actual water was in Maine. Gatorade or not, Coke and alcohol were far from hydrating and he was pretty sure if Dante tried to give him blood again there might be performance issues.

 

_ “Isn’t that always our kinda thing? Human or not, fuck that guy. Or girl. Equal opportunity murder and all that.” _

 

The smile on Alex’s face fell when his partner pushed the water away, once again shaking his head in dismay.

 

“It’s definitely one of our things,” he confirmed, reading on a bit more, though the article didn’t have the details he was looking for, but he supposed the police didn’t want to release everything to the public. “Maybe in a night or two we can poke around? Try to figure out more than what’s in the press.”

 

A moment later, Gabe reappeared at their table, balancing a tray on one hand. He set out a plate of greenery in front of Dante before setting what looked like the bacon cheeseburger to end all bacon cheeseburgers down in front of Alex. Alex, meanwhile, was perplexed why the fries were covered in what appeared to be toppings of some sort. What a time to be alive. 

 

“Make sure you hang onto the plate this time,” Gabe said to Alex with a wink before placing a basket of garlic bread down beside Dante, an olive branch, of sorts. “Oh, I did have something I wanted you to try,” he said to Alex, before straightening up to leave. “Be right back,” he said, disappearing once again.

 

~

 

_ “Can you describe what you saw, exactly? Did you hear anything? Like bits of conversation maybe?” _

 

Dante couldn’t believe Alex was taking this seriously, at least a lot more than the human was. He cast a quick, uncertain look at his partner before his eyes slid away, trying to gauge him, make certain he wasn’t being messed with. “I didn’t hear anything, mostly just pictures,” he mumbled, suddenly uncomfortable.

 

_ “In the interest of scientific curiosity, you might as well tell me everything ...We’re going back to the cemetery after all a cemetery you’ve never been to and wouldn’t it be interesting if you could describe it perfectly without having been there?” _

 

Dante puffed out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, drumming his fingertips on the tabletop.

 

“What can I say, it looked like a graveyard,” Dante said somewhat defensively, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to conjure details that were now fuzzy. “There was like, a wide paved road... lots of tall headstones. Old ones. And these big arches, like they reminded me of a cathedral. Kind of like Saint Andrew’s. The sign had the word ‘green’ on it, I think.” 

 

Feeling sheepish, nervous, flustered, Dante reached for the water glass again. He took a long drink, desperately wishing it was caffeinated. He plowed ahead in a rush, before he lost the nerve, because the more he said the more foolish it sounded. 

 

“Gabe was there. Talking to you by these two headstones... I think he was wearing jeans and flannel, something normal like that. I couldn’t honestly hear anything. But I saw him hand you that piece of paper, the one with his number. It was in his pocket.” Dante’s eyes flicked upwards for the first time, again trying to get a read on his partner. “Stupid, right?” 

 

_ “‘Times are bad. Children no longer obey their parents, and everyone is writing a book.’” _

 

Dante shrugged at that, knowing he couldn’t argue. People were still people, after all. “Well, you’re writing a book aren’t you?” He challenges, trying not to grin, “does that make you part of the problem?”

 

_ “I just...I swear, of all the kids I’ve ever met...”  _

 

Dante glowered darkly at the vampire as he watched him take a long drink, even if the movement of the muscles in the vampire’s throat threatened to briefly distract him.

 

“Feel better?” His voice was thick with sarcasm. He was tempted to sulk, but the threat of being seen as a ‘kid’ always made him bristle so he managed to resist.

 

_ “If you want to know Gabe’s motives, I’d ask him yourself... I’d guess it’s a hospitality thing, also, I’m not psychic so I can’t be sure.”  _

 

Dante wasn’t entirely sure if asking a psychic for an explanation was the best idea, but he figured he could give it a shot. At least for Alex’s sake. On the other hand, it might be better to keep his mouth shut. It seemed like a better option that coming off as paranoid and suspicious. It couldn’t hurt his chances if somehow Alex’s friends actually liked him. 

 

_ “It’s definitely one of our things... Maybe in a night or two we can poke around? Try to figure out more than what’s in the press.” _

 

Dante nodded his agreement, “I’m always down for a hunt. Here’s hoping it’s your run of the mill human psychopath and nothing more... sinister.”

 

He was about to ask what other information might be in the article when Gave arrived, and he flashed a quick smile at him in an attempt to look marginally more friendly. That urge faded immediately when he saw the plate set in front of him. He looked up and stared daggers at his partner, biting his lip hard. He was sure his partner had something to do with this. 

 

As stoic as he was trying to appear, he definitely couldn’t repress the incredulous sound that passed his lips when he saw Alex’s plate, ie, the exact meal he’d been craving all day. Now that was just adding insult to injury. 

 

_ “Make sure you hang onto the plate this time...”  _

 

“I’ll fight you,” Dante mouthed at the vampire, daring him to try to keep him off that burger. 

 

He managed to hold his shit together until Gabe took off again, double-checking that he was gone before turning his glare back to Alex. “Are you fucking kidding me,” he growled, staring incredulously down at the plate of green garbage in front of him. “Seriously, this is a joke right, he switched the plates to be funny? I am not eating this shit.” As if proving his point he pushed the plate towards Alex, angrily grabbing a piece of garlic bread to gnaw on. 

 

“Guess I’m resigned to gas station food after all,” he griped, trying his damnedest not to look at the burger and fries. He could definitely smell them. he was legitimately a little frustrated, considering he had been looking forward to seeing what a real meal tasted like, but he wasn’t entirely surprised either. “Yeah, I take it all back. This is definitely axe-murder level bullshit.”

 

~

 

_ “I didn’t hear anything, mostly just pictures.” _

 

For the time being, Alex just waited, patiently, hoping Dante worked up the nerve to keep going. He wasn’t sure why his partner was so uncomfortable about all of this. It didn’t even seem as oppositional as it had been back at the bar, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment and have Dante shut out the idea entirely.

 

_ “What can I say, it looked like a graveyard. The sign had the word ‘green’ on it, I think.”  _

 

If nothing else, Alex was at least glad Dante finally drank his water. A small part of him wondered if Dante would function much better and feel less run down if he made an effort to take better care of himself. Another part of him, a distant thought at the back of his mind, wondered if Dante wasn’t still on a destructive spiral downward without even realizing it.

 

“I think you’ll be shocked when you see the gate leading into Green-Wood Cemetery,” he commented, knowing the arched gate was one of the main draws to the place. 

 

_ “Gabe was there. Talking to you by these two headstones... It was in his pocket. Stupid, right?”  _

 

“That’s...exactly what he was wearing. What color was the flannel?” He asked, picturing the blue and white checkered material in his mind’s eye. “Can you describe the jeans? Colors, tears, designs?” Alex continued to ask, thinking back to the light washed jeans with distressed rips across the knees. “He did have his number in his pocket, already written out and everything. We were also beside two headstones when we were talking, one of them was mine obviously.” 

 

_ “Well, you’re writing a book aren’t you? Does that make you part of the problem?” _

 

“I never claimed to be apart of the solution,” he said, conceding the point. “And...I mean, the book was an idea,” he murmured, feeling just a little self-conscious about the aforementioned idea. While Dante had seemed interested in his stories and people they came across from time to time were interested, Alex just wasn’t sure. “I guess I’m kind of committed to it now? Wouldn’t want to disappoint.” 

 

_ “Feel better?” _

 

“Yes, much better,” he said, hearing the sarcasm and playing along, smug as can be, “thank you for asking.” 

 

_ “I’m always down for a hunt. Here’s hoping it’s your run of the mill human psychopath and nothing more... sinister.” _

 

“Hopefully it’s just an ordinary human psychopath, but if it isn’t who better than to take care of it?” He scanned over the paper, committing certain details to memory. “I kind of wish I could get a look at the bodies. The article says the victims all died in a variety of ways, but the link is symbols cut into them before their deaths. Oh, and I guess eyes being gouged out is a thing. ...Obvious it’s not much, as I’m sure no one wants the media to sensationalize this or cause people to panic.” After he finished reading, he set the paper aside, making a mental note to look more into it later when Dante had his laptop available. “The killer does seem to have a type, all victims have been Caucasian males in their twenties, which is kind of strange, these kinds of people usually go for people that are easier to overpower, not men at the peak of physical condition... Unless they’re disabled, but the article makes no mention of that.” 

 

Unfortunately, as Alex thought aloud about the article, Gabe arrived and the topic shifted to the swapped plates. Or rather, Dante’s plates, one of which was left in Alex’s custody.

 

_ “I’ll fight you.” _

 

Alex couldn’t stop the somewhat mischievous smile from spreading across his face. It was hard to keep up an impassive mask with Dante at the best of times, but when the hunter was this worked up it was impossible.

 

_ “Are you fucking kidding me? Seriously, this is a joke right, he switched the plates to be funny? I am not eating this shit.”  _

 

“You’re _adorable_ like this,” Alex said while watching Dante gnaw at a piece of garlic bread. “It’s a salad, it’s not going to kill you,” he added, certain his partner was overreacting.

 

Eating and drinking generally didn’t do anything for him. Doing either was a somewhat pointless venture if blood wasn’t involved. Still, his only regret in that moment was being forbidden garlic bread or risk a rash in and around his mouth.

 

_ “Guess I’m resigned to gas station food after all.” _

 

It took everything for Alex not to roll his eyes at Dante being over dramatic over a salad. If he had a choice at all they’d never had to stop at a gas station for food again. He was pretty sure eating nothing but gas station food and heartstoppers was going to put his partner in an early grave just as much as cigarettes or fangs and claws.

 

_ “Yeah, I take it all back. This is definitely axe-murder level bullshit.”  _

 

“I’ll give it to you if you eat the damn salad,” Alex said a little exasperated, hanging onto the plate more than he had the glass of coke. “...Do you want me to resort to begging?” He couldn’t have been gladder they were somewhere semi-private. “Will you please eat it? I promise a bit of lettuce is not as bad as you think it’ll be.”

 

Sighing, Alex wondered how long it would take to try to cajole or coerce Dante into eating something green for once. In the end, he’d probably give up the burger and fries anyway, since it wasn’t like he had any reason to eat either. Of course, he wasn’t going to make it obvious.

 

~

 

_ “I think you’ll be shocked when you see the gate leading into Green-Wood Cemetery...” _

 

Dante paused mid-sip, glancing at his partner skeptically. He was fairly certain the vampire was just messing with him, because that seemed like an altogether more plausible explanation than the alternative. It had been such a generic, far-fetched guess, a shot in the dark at best. Nothing more. He grunted, unable to come to a satisfying conclusion. 

 

“Lucky guess,” he mumbled in place of a real answer. 

 

_ “That’s...exactly what he was wearing. What color was the flannel? Can you describe the jeans? Colors, tears, designs?”  _

 

Back on the defensive, Dante learned back, away from the questions. “I don’t know, blue? Jesus, let me just change the channel real quick and zoom in... it’s not that fucking easy.” He was aware he was being more than a little hostile, and it was a poor cover for his nerves. He still didn’t like prying too deeply into what might be a can of worms, but was more likely a dead end. Alex was just getting his hopes up for nothing, and for some reason that was what bothered the hunter the most about all of this. 

 

“He did have his number in his pocket, already written out and everything. We were also beside two headstones when we were talking, one of them was mine obviously.” 

 

“I’m telling you,” Dante shrugged, looking away, “it’s a coincidence. Maybe I’ve seen a picture of the place before or something, like it’s all subconscious. Maybe you told me all that but I was too drunk to remember it. There’s some kind of explanation.” 

 

He had no idea if that was true or not, but for the time being he was determined to believe it. It was really the only logic he had to hold onto. Because behind door number two there was, what, exactly? Magic? Visions and premonitions and psychic powers? No, thank you. 

 

_ “I mean, the book was an idea... I guess I’m kind of committed to it now? Wouldn’t want to disappoint.”  _

 

Dante felt a wicked satisfaction in seeing the tables turned, however briefly. “Well I’m not saying I was looking forward to reading it... just that I had already mentally planned out the cover art, sequel, prequel, and movie trilogy adaptation. That’s all. How do you feel about your part being played by Hugh Jackman?” 

 

_ “Hopefully it’s just an ordinary human psychopath, but if it isn’t who better than to take care of it?”  _

 

Dante listened, his interest piqued at the mention of carved symbols and gouged eyes. “Mmm, sounds vaguely cult-y. What are the odds we can sneak into the morgue for a peek at the bodies?” It was figurative question; Dante had several government ID’s stashed away for both of them for just such occasions. It posed an interesting potential project for the pair of them. An old-fashioned murder investigation sounded like a welcome reprieve right about now, and if that wasn’t telling he didn’t know what was. 

 

_ “The killer does seem to have a type, all victims have been Caucasian males in their twenties...”  _

 

Dante raised his eyebrows at that. Odd choice. “Like, your style males-in-their-twenties,” Dante gestured to Alex pointedly, then more skeptically at himself, “or like homeless vagrant males-in-their-twenties?” Grinning at his own joke, the hunter shrugged a shoulder. “Cause it sounds like one of us is about to be bait.”

  
  


-

  
  


_ “You’re  _ adorable _ like this... It’s a salad, it’s not going to kill you.” _

 

Dante was torn between sheer fury at anyone calling him 'adorable,' a word he was positive had never been applied to him in his life, indignation, and something that veered dangerously into “feelings” territory. He settled for continuing to glare, hoping to at least guilt trip Alex into giving up the good stuff. Dante knew he wasn’t going to live long enough to worry about congestive heart failure, anyways. 

 

_ “I’ll give it to you if you eat the damn salad...” _

 

“What, the whole thing?” Dante protested immediately, knowing he was being petulant but unable to really fix it at this point. He was hungry, dammit. For real food. 

 

_ “...Do you want me to resort to begging? Will you please eat it? I promise a bit of lettuce is not as bad as you think it’ll be.” _

 

That was almost enough to crack Dante’s resolve. Almost. But between the vampire’s persistence with the whole magic psychic thing and now this, he was feeling far from forgiving. 

 

“Easy for you to say, since nobody’s forcing you to eat it,” he huffed, wondering when exactly Alex and Gabe had found the time to cook up this new brand of sadism. “Imagine I just opened up a vein right here in front of you,” Dante mimed slicing his elbow, the same spot where Alex had fed only a day or two ago, “and you could see it and smell it and everything. And it was someone’s blood you really wanted...” he thought it was pretty obvious that person wasn’t him, for the sake of making his point, “but I was all like ‘no way, you can’t have this juicy fresh blood until you eat this old, crusty fingernail first.’” 

 

He made his point, grimacing as he stabbed a fork into the pile of lettuce. It took a few more tries to actually impale anything on the utensil, which only served to make him even more frustrated. He finally managed to stab a few pieces, which he lifted triumphantly. 

 

“Now, wouldn’t you classify that as cruel and unusual?” The hunter wrapped up his analogy and studied the greenery on his fork with poorly-veiled disgust. Bracing himself for the worst, Dante took a tentative bite of lettuce and what was probably cucumber, although he couldn’t be certain. 

 

“It’s like crunchy water,” he deadpanned, trying his damnedest to control his facial features. They were in public, after all, and he didn’t want to completely humiliate Alex at his friend’s establishment. 

 

“Okay so I ate the salad,” he announced dramatically as if he’d polished off the entire plate rather than a single bite, “burger time?” He rubbed his hands together hopefully, eyeing the greasy platter under Alex’s protection.

 

~

 

_ “Lucky guess,” _

 

Alex gave his partner a skeptical look, wishing Dante’s stubbornness wasn’t rearing its head on this matter. The vampire almost wanted to drop it on the off chance Dante figured it all out on his own and yet... The urge to poke and prod was ever present. It was that same curiosity that left him restless in life and frustrated when left without anything to engage himself.

 

_ “I don’t know, blue? Jesus, let me just change the channel real quick and zoom in... it’s not that fucking easy.”  _

 

Unperturbed, Alex was still thinking over what he’d been told so far and what his hypotheses were on the whole issue. Judging from Dante’s body language though it seemed as if he didn’t really want to talk about this all that much. Even then he couldn’t figure out just why Dante was so resistant to the idea that he wasn’t anything ordinary. Alex, meanwhile, chased after the idea like a scientist on the verge of some great discovery.

 

_ “I’m telling you, it’s a coincidence. Maybe I’ve seen a picture of the place before or something, like it’s all subconscious. Maybe you told me all that but I was too drunk to remember it. There’s some kind of explanation.”  _

 

“Don’t let me forget about that virtual library device...thing you’ve mentioned before,” Alex commented suddenly, forgetting the name of the damn thing. “I also don’t recall telling you much about the actual graveyard or what happened there, you seemed...” Alex trailed off, not wanting to think about how irate Dante had seemed over his venture to the cemetery. “Anyway, we talked about other things, I wasn’t even sure if you’d remember much with how...uh...” 

 

For once, Alex felt lost for words, so he trailed off and left the matter alone. 

 

~

 

_ “Well I’m not saying I was looking forward to reading it... just that I had already mentally planned out the cover art, sequel, prequel, and movie trilogy adaptation. That’s all. How do you feel about your part being played by Hugh Jackman?”  _

 

Shaking his head, Alex wasn’t sure if he was amused or exasperated, amusperated? This was almost too much, he wasn’t even entirely sold on the idea of seriously looking into publishing anything. Perhaps at the end of Dante’s life, Alex might look into getting his journals somewhere, either in print or virtual, prior to meeting his own end.

 

“I don’t even think a series of trilogies would really encompass everything, I feel for anyone trying to produce my entire life story in any format,” running a hand through his hair, he shook his head again. “I have no idea who this Huge Jacked Man is,” he said, playing around with the words, his voice practically at a sigh at the admission despite the subtle attempt at humor. 

 

~

 

_ “Mmm, sounds vaguely cult-y. What are the odds we can sneak into the morgue for a peek at the bodies?”  _

 

"...That might not be a bad idea," Alex murmured, knowing the journalist who wrote the article was only given few facts with an ongoing investigation and the perpetrator still on the loose. The medical examiner and whoever was working the case would know more, but that was nothing compared to being able to see the bodies themselves. "I'll let you handle the odds of it happening, I'll just act the part if you want us to stroll in like we own the place.” 

 

_ “Like, your style males-in-their-twenties, or like homeless vagrant males-in-their-twenties? Cause it sounds like one of us is about to be bait.” _

 

Scanning the article once more, Alex was dismayed to realize there was no photos or names of the victims in the article. He understood why, but at the same time, it made answering Dante's question harder. Not to mention, there wasn't much indicating the social or economic standing of the victims. He also understood why, indicating a very specific victim type might have people thinking they'd be next. However, given the attention the authorities were paying to the murders Alex doubted the victims were people no one would miss.

 

"I'd have to see them or a picture of them to answer your question, but I don't believe the homeless get much attention when these things happen to them," was the immediate answer. 

 

Alex was frowning, then he spoke again, "you don't look like a homeless vagrant...I’m also certain prior to Vin taking me in I looked the part of faceless street urchin more than you could if you tried.” 

 

For some reason, despite the fact that using themselves as bait was a semi-regular occurrence on hunts, the idea of doing it right now after everything else left Alex anxious. Not for himself, unless someone was targeting vampires specifically he was sure he'd be fine. Whoever was behind all of this was content with butchering ordinary humans it seemed. While Alex thought Dante was far from ordinary, he didn't want to imagine his partner mutilated by a serial killer or a group of cultists. 

 

Mulling it over a moment longer, Alex added, “and we're not using you as bait."

 

~

 

With Dante glaring at him after being called adorable, Alex couldn't help but feel some smugness over the whole thing. Dante could guilt trip him with plenty of things, but this was one thing that he was having too much fun with to relent so easily.

 

_ “What, the whole thing?” _

 

"Is this why you're so short?" Alex answered with a question, idly wondering if Dante's father or the brotherhood had been too concerned about what and how well Dante ate at a young age. “What are you like...five-two, five-three?” He was joking, of course, knowing Dante was maybe about three inches shorter than himself.

 

_ “Easy for you to say, since nobody’s forcing you to eat it,” _

 

For the most part, Alex hoped he’d concealed the flash of unease that passed his face. Almost eleven years of being forced to drink something he didn’t want was difficult to get over, even for him. He doubted Dante was thinking about what he’d suffered at his sire’s hands, so he didn’t say anything.

 

_ “Imagine I just opened up a vein right here in front of you, and you could see it and smell it and everything. And it was someone’s blood you really wanted...” _

 

Immediately, Alex thought back to the gas station the other night when he had been pondering where he’d manage to hunt in the city. There had been a brief moment then in which his partner had offered a bite of a bar of literal sugar garbage and Alex had honed in on the subtle movement of Dante’s pulse in his neck. He huffed, glad to have had a drink at the bar earlier and had always prided himself on his self-control when it came to blood. Right now he almost felt as if his self-control was being mocked, but that was absurd to him and he understood well enough Dante just didn’t want to eat a salad.

 

_ “...but I was all like ‘no way, you can’t have this juicy fresh blood until you eat this old, crusty fingernail first.’”  _

 

“I don’t think I’d really know the feeling you're talking about,” Alex retorted, nonchalant. “Imagine choosing to eat lettuce your entire life while surrounded by cheeseburgers constantly, but only allowing yourself a small bite of what you really want once in a blue moon.” A pause, then he continued, “also, fingernails have no nutritional value to me, that salad does have vitamins and minerals your body needs.”

 

_ “Now, wouldn’t you classify that as cruel and unusual?”  _

 

Watching his partner stabbing at a salad shouldn't have been as comical as it was. It took every ounce of willpower not to either laugh or roll his eyes when Dante finally took a bite. Once again, Alex shook his head, wondering if he should have told Dante to at least add some dressing or something, because that would have made it much more tolerable.

 

"Cruel and unusual?" Alex parroted back, a single brow raising, his skepticism of Dante's analogy rising with it. "I'd call it that if I held you down and forced fed it to you, but as you can see, you're eating it of your own free will." 

 

_ “It’s like crunchy water,” _

 

"You're acting like I've force fed you a spoonful of cinnamon or Tabasco sauce," looking entirely unimpressed, Alex turned his attention to the newspaper again, wondering if he'd missed anything, then flipping to the obituaries out of morbid curiosity.

 

_ “Okay so I ate the salad, burger time?”  _

 

Glancing up from the paper, Alex eyed Dante, then the salad plate, then the plate filled with grease and carbs. A part of him wanted to grant Dante no quarter here, but another part realized there was a small victory had, like winning a thumb war or a minor skirmish with sticks. Drawing the moment out, Alex relented and slide the plate across to his partner, feeling as if he'd lost despite everything else. He wondered then if maybe being more hands-off would be a better short term strategy, but the idea of dealing with a middle-aged hunter in failing health didn't sound too great of a trade-off.

 

"That'll catch up with you once you reach Rafter's age," he commented, attention back on the obituaries he was reading.

 

* * *

 

{A/N: Hey everyone, I just wanted to leave an update and an explanation here. Presently, my RP partner (who I am writing this with) is taking a break and I’m not entirely sure when we’ll be back to writing this. As it is, there will be a hiatus on this particular work until she’s back. That being said, I am working on a few backstory/side pieces for this universe detailing Alex’s history in particular. I do have a tumblr (or well, tumblrS as in many), an IG specifically for this series, and a discord server that is join-able. 

My Discord Server: [https://discord.gg/xqu8BTT](https://discord.gg/xqu8BTT)  
My Tumblr: 2sp00ky4me.com  
My Other Tumblr: spookywhispering.tumblr.com   
The Road Not Taken IG: @danlexmemes }


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